Corporate Ladders
by Undertaker's Madness
Summary: Ronald Knox is one of the newest junior officers in Dispatch. He has great potential, but tends to get distracted a lot. Unaware of the secret he's keeping from him, he seeks guidance from his friend Eric and his partner Alan, determined to become a brilliant reaper and climb his way to the top. Yaoi, AU, takes place after "The Language of Flowers" and before "Flowers for the Dead"
1. Chapter 1

"Corporate Ladders"

_A William/Ronald fanfiction_

Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. I make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only._**

* * *

"Bloody hell…I'm late again!"

Ronald hopped as he pulled his pants up, his slightly panicked gaze fixated on his alarm clock. He swore he'd set it the night before, but it didn't go off. The only reason he'd woken up at all was because of the phone call he'd gotten from Eric Slingby. He didn't get to the phone in time, but the Scotsman's voice came through loud and clear on the voice message recording.

_"Just givin' a reminder tha' you've go' tae be at work in twenty minutes, lad. See yeh at tha rat race."_

Well, thank gods for Slingby. Ronald couldn't say just how or when it had happened, but the two of them had become fast friends as he moved up in the ranks. Eric watched his back both on the clock and off it, and for that, Ron was grateful. He didn't even hide his accent around him anymore.

"Shoes…shoes…shoes…" Ronald's two-toned head whipped around as he searched his cluttered studio apartment for the nice, Italian shoes he'd just bought himself to compliment his uniform. He sighed in relief when he saw one of them peeking out from under his couch. "There y' are!"

He squatted down to dig them out, and he raced to his chest of drawers to procure a pair of socks. "I'd have been upset if I lost these," he muttered. It took three months of saving up for him to be able to afford them, and he'd barely been able to make rent after getting them. His mentor would have argued that he should put better furnishings and bills before fashion, if Grell weren't such a fashion freak himself. Humphries merely shook his head and smiled when Ron came into work showing them off.

Knox lived a bit like a slob, but he dressed in style. His work ensemble alone was worth more than all his furniture combined. Next on his agenda was a sexy car or a motorcycle…but that would have to wait until his funds built back up or he got a raise. The custom scythe he'd had designed was his first big investment, once he made it to junior officer status. The wardrobe naturally came next. Meanwhile, he slept on a couch with a hide-a-bed that he never bothered to pull out, and he ate off chipped plates and drank from plastic glasses. His tiny apartment was cluttered for certain, but he _did_ wash dishes each night and clean house once per week.

"Right," he sighed after slipping his pricey suit on and getting his tie sorted out. He snatched his designer watch off the top of the dresser and put it on his wrist, before styling his hair and splashing on a little cologne. Five minutes. He had to be at the office in _five bloody minutes_, and it was all the way across town!

"Man, I am _so_ in for it," he groaned as he raced for the door and grabbed his keys off the hook beside it. He'd never make it in time, even if he didn't need to rely on public transport.

* * *

He tried to sneak in without being seen by the boss, but William T. Spears was standing in the lobby, talking to one of the board members. Ronald winced and ducked behind a rubber tree plant, biting his lip.

"How the hell am I s'posed t' clock in with him standing _right there_?" he whined. It was bad enough that he couldn't be around the man on a regular day without his blush factor kicking in. When Spears went into lecture mode, it did funny, inappropriate things to him. Sometimes Ronald was tempted to screw up just to get some Spears discipline.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he yelped, turning around to find Eric standing there.

"You gave me a fright," accused Ronald.

"Ye'll get more than a 'fright' if tha boss catches ya comin' in late again, Knoxie," observed Eric. "Come on; I've already clocked ya in. Far as anyone's concerned you've been wi' me since tha work day started."

Ronald sighed in relief and went with him to the elevators. "Thanks, Eric. I really owe y' one."

The Scotsman chuckled and pressed the button for their floor. "Jus' be more careful, kid. I cannae always come tae yer rescue. I think ya ought tae invest in a better alarm clock."

Ronald scratched the back of his head, where the sunny blond hair turned to black at the nape of his neck. "Yeah, I thought of that too while I was runnin' around my place like a chicken with it's head cut off, this morning. I _know_ I set the damned thing before bed last night, but it never went off!"

"Then maybe we should carpool 'till ya get a more reliable one," suggested Eric. "I'll drag your arse outta bed every morning, if I've go' tae."

"Heh…I'd appreciate it." Ronald leaned back against the wall of the elevator. "So what are y' doing this weekend? There's a new club opening up on Saturday. I know you're not on the market for dates, but I could stand t' add a few numbers to my book."

"Sorry Ronnie; Alan and I have plans already. Been a while since we've actually been on a real date t'gether, so I'm takin' him out fer dinner an' a movie."

"Oh." Ronald shrugged. He wished he had the courage to be as open with his preferences as the two of them were. Not that Shinigami typically judged same sex couples, but he'd spent a lot of his youth in the mortal realm, where such relationships were taboo.

_~And even if I hopped out of th' closet, I'd still never have the balls t' ask out the person I really want.~_

He'd had his secret trysts with other guys closer to his age, of course, but that's all they were…trysts. All the girls he dated thought he was just a gentleman, but the truth was he had no intention of sleeping with any of them and he just enjoyed their company.

"Ronnie, are ya still in there?" Eric waved a hand over the younger reaper's eyes, smirking at him. "Where do ya go in yer head, when ya start tha' daydreamin'?"

Ronald shrugged and stuck his hands into his pockets. "Just thinkin' of my next date, most of the time."

_~Or fantasizing about a date I'll never get. Damn it.~_

Eric sighed. "Ya need tae focus more when yer in tha office. Far as reapin' goes, yer one o' tha best in yer generation…but when ya keep starin' off in tae space in tha office, it doesnae leave a good impression tae yer seniors."

"Yeah, I know," sighed the boy. "I'll try t' pay more attention."

* * *

His actions belied his words a mere two hours later. Bored and waiting on his next reaping assignments, Ronald started playing with paperclips. He ended up fashioning a slingshot of one of them, rigging it with a rubber band. He was in Grell's office, waiting for the redhead to finish up in a meeting so that they could pick up a death list and get moving. With his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, Ronald took aim at the door with the makeshift slingshot he'd fashioned.

"They never see me coming," he muttered cockily. "Death strikes with th' force of—"

The door opened just as he loosed the paperclip projectile he'd loaded into the slingshot, and to Ronald's eternal horror, William T. Spears got pegged right in the face with it.

"Oh, shit! S-Spears-senpai!" He straightened up in the desk chair, going white as a sheet as the Dispatch supervisor jerked and put a gloved hand to his stinging cheek. "I totally didn't mean t' get ya! Aw man…I'm soooo sorry!"

William raised an elegant brow at him. "I can see your paychecks are money well-spent. I am sure the board will be pleased to know that one of our most recently promoted young reapers spends his time in the office rigging paper-clip booby traps."

Ronald winced and dropped the slingshot he'd made. "I was just…uh…waiting on my mentor, sir. I've finished all th' paperwork I had this morning."

William carried a stack of documents over to the desk. "On the contrary, there is a bit more."

He dropped the stack onto the polished surface. "Clearly, we do not keep you busy enough, Mister Knox."

Ronald gulped. "Am I getting overtime?"

William glanced out the window. "That would depend on you, and the speed and efficiency in which you complete your additional paperwork. Perhaps you should get started on that now, rather than shooting office supplies across the room."

That piercing gaze met his again, causing Ronald's heart to thud so strongly he feared William might be able to hear it banging against his ribcage. For a long moment, William merely stared at him; and then he gave a cordial nod. "Good day, Mister Knox."

Ronald swallowed again. "Good day, sir."

He didn't breathe again until William had left the room. Even after getting reprimanded, he'd been unable to stop himself from admiring the boss's retreating backside. Spears had a very nice bum. Ronald groaned once he was alone in the office room again, and he face-planted on the new pile of paperwork.

"Well, _that's_ a great way t' show the boss your worth…shoot him in the face with a paperclip."

At least he hadn't blurted out that he'd bend over for a spanking, if William wanted him to.

He got started on the paperwork, blushing at the direction of his own thoughts. Moments later, Grell came twirling in with the usual flair and a shark-like grin. "Good morning, darling," greeted the crimson reaper. He stopped and sighed, planting his hands on his hips. "Just _what_ are you doing at my desk, Ronnie? I have told you time after time to do your paperwork at your own desk!" He jabbed a finger in the direction of the smaller desk in the corner of the room.

"Chair's broken," excused Ronald with a shrug, "and you weren't in here, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to sit at your desk 'till ya got here."

He obligingly scooped up the paperwork and got out of Grell's chair, carrying it all over to his desk. He sat down gingerly on the unstable chair, careful not to lean back and end up on the floor again like yesterday.

"They were supposed to replace that chair today," sighed Grell. He sat down at his desk and he picked up his phone to call maintenance. "Honestly, nothing ever gets done around here when it should. Yes, hello? This is Officer Sutcliff. I've a broken chair in my office that you were supposed to have replaced by today. Yes, that's correct. Well, good! You'd better, because I cannot afford to have a partner with a concussion!"

He hung up and smiled. "Well then, that should take care of that! Leave off the paperwork for now, Mustard Seed. We have souls to reap." He produced his book of death list names and waved it meaningfully at the blond.

"Gladly," agreed Ronald with a smirk. Reaping was more of an art than a job to him, and it was his favorite part of the work day. Pity he couldn't get away with doing nothing but reaping.

* * *

"Just look at this _mess_," exclaimed Grell, waving a hand un-necessarily at the gory splatters painting the walls and floors of the house interior. "My goodness, someone had themselves a good time."

Ronald grimaced as he approached the dead female, lying in a pool of her own drying blood. Her hair was so saturated with it that he couldn't tell what color it was. She was an attractive sort, with high cheekbones and blue eyes. "Looks like they took something from her," he observed as he squatted down to have a better look.

"Well, of course the killer would have no compunctions about stealing her coin purse." Grell waved a hand dismissively.

"No, I'm not talking about a coin purse or jewelry," explained Ronald. He looked up at his mentor. "I mean a body part. They cut something out o' her, Senpai."

"Hmm." Grell walked over to the body and looked down at it, adjusting his red-framed glasses. There was a gaping slice in her lower abdomen, where part of her dress had been cut away. "How very odd. The list didn't say anything about cannibalism."

Ronald shook his head and summoned his scythe. "Maybe they didn't cut it out t' eat it. I dunno enough about biology t' tell what bits they took. Her stomach?" He shrugged. Just as he was about to make the first cut to begin collecting her records, a huge cockroach came crawling out of the wound and he fell back with a startled curse.

"Aw, gross!"

Grell sighed. "Her innards have been scooped out, and you're troubled by a bug? Really, darling, you simply _must_ grow a thicker skin. And it wasn't her stomach, Knoxie. I believe it was her womb that they stole."

Having turned a bit pasty, Ronald gulped and tried again. "Just startled me, is all. You weren't right here hovering over it!" He got to his feet and started up his mower. Her reels showed the final moments of her life, but the killer's shadowed form was too blurred to identify. As Grell watched, Ronald collected all of the reels and made a note in his own report book.

"I don't think a prostitute has anything special t' give humanity."

Grell smirked. "Not likely, no. I do find the manner of her death quite…interesting, though. I wonder why someone would take her womb?"

"Maybe she was pregnant," suggested Ronald, "and whoever offed her didn't want her havin' the baby."

"Mm, could be." Grell brushed it off. "Well, we have several more assignments to take care of today, and plenty of paperwork to handle as well. Let's move on, shall we?"

* * *

After collecting the records of eight more targets, the two of them returned to their realm to hand in their records. Grell was still going on about the murder victim they'd started out with, and Ronald was doing his best to try and forget the disgusting bug incident.

"Whomever the killer is, he must surely be depraved," Grell was saying as they walked back out of the library and began the trek back to Headquarters. "Can you imagine what sort of twisted mind it must take to steal a victim's organs? And such a _personal_ organ, too!"

"Yeah, it's sick," agreed Ronald. "Can we stop talking about it now?"

"I just find it fascinating," Grell went on as if he hadn't spoken. "The depths that some mortals will sink! So much blood. You know, blood is really quite lovely. So very red."

Ronald stared at the older reaper. "You're starting t' freak me out a little, Senpai."

Grell shrugged. "We are gods of death, Ronnie. If we can't find some beauty in it, however will we manage to keep bringing it to them? Reapers go mad if they cannot separate their emotions from the job."

"Yeah, but ya don't have t' get turned on by it," protested the blond.

"Now you're just being silly," admonished Grell. "I'm not…oh, look! There's Will! Wiiilliam, darling!"

Grell called out to the handsome, raven-haired man and he hurried across the street to him. He seemed to be on his way to the library from headquarters.

Ronald nearly laughed at the trapped expression that flitted over Spears' face briefly, before he could contain it. The man looked around as if seeking somewhere to hide, before heaving a visible sigh of defeat. He held Sutcliff at arm's length as the redhead tried to embrace him. The blond waited for traffic to clear before jogging across the street to join them.

"Hi boss," he greeted William, giving him the "death" salute. "Nine mortals, tagged 'n bagged. Not bad, huh?"

"Sutcliff, do contain yourself," snapped William. He pushed Grell away and straightened up his suit. "And yes, nine collections is rather impressive in such a short time, Knox. It almost makes up for your poor office behavior."

Ronald bit his lip, his bluster stolen by the criticism. "I'll try t' do better, sir."

Those eyes pinned him again, sliding over him in a way that made Ronald want to squirm. He could practically feel the phantom touch of that stare. William's lips twitched in an expression that might have almost passed for a fleeting smile. "See to it that you do, Ronald Knox. Now if you'll both pardon me, I have records of my own to hand in."

"You went reaping?" Ronald's brows shot up with surprise. William rarely set foot outside his office, spending most of his time managing Dispatch and filing reports.

"We have been rather overbooked, of late," explained the brunet, "and despite the addition of new reapers into our ranks, there has been a rise in the death counts this month. It is sometimes necessary for me to lend my own scythe to managing collections."

He sighed and pushed his glasses further up with the tip of said scythe. "I would delight in having a day off, but it seems that will have to wait."

"You could still take a day off, Willy," suggested Grell, batting his eyelashes at him. "Perhaps a romantic evening out with a certain lady who adores you, hmm?"

An ugly feeling of jealousy twisted Ronald's stomach as William gazed at Grell as if almost considering it. Sutcliff was determined to eventually wear him down and win his affections, and given their history together, Ronald braced himself for that to happen eventually. Who was he to compete with a senior officer…one who had known William since his first days at the academy? Sure, he was charming and good looking, but he was so far beneath Spears that he might as well be an ant.

"I'm afraid I have neither the time nor the inclination for a 'romantic evening out'," William finally informed the amorous redhead, "least of all not with a 'lady' who cannot take 'no' for an answer."

Grell pouted. "You are so cold, my darling."

"I'm not your 'darling'," reminded William, "and if you detain me a single moment longer, I shall bury you in so much paperwork you will never again see the light of day. Now, I must be going."

He glanced at Ronald once more, before excusing himself from their presence for the final time. Grell stared after him with a sigh, his heart in his eyes. "Why must he deny our love?"

"Maybe 'cause he doesn't feel it like you do," suggested Ronald—more brutally than intended.

Grell gave him a shocked and offended look. "Why, you little…I'll have you know that Will is only in denial! He resists because he fears losing his heart to my beauty!"

Ronald sighed, rolling his eyes. "Face it, Miss Sutcliff; he's got no sex drive. I've never seen him go on a date…have you?"

"Well, no," admitted Grell, "but that's simply because he's saving himself for me. He just doesn't know it, yet."

"Whatever." He was tired of arguing with Grell's delusions. "Let's just get back t' the office, so we can finish up our paperwork and clock out on time."

* * *

He was getting a headache…again. In addition to the added burden of deaths on the list, Sutcliff continued to throw himself at him at every turn. Knox was in the habit of slacking whenever possible. It seemed the only reliable agents he had were Slingby and his partner Humphries, and they couldn't be expected to take up all the slack themselves. William returned to his office after turning in his collections at the library, and he went into the small, adjoining bathroom to procure some aspirin.

After popping a couple into his mouth and rinsing it down with a glass of tap water, he walked over to his desk. It was getting late, and the sun was beginning to set. He still had filing to do. Other reapers were beginning to leave for the evening, returning home to their loved ones for dinner, or going out on the town for some personal enjoyment.

Personal enjoyment. He honestly could not recall the last time he'd indulged in such, himself. He heard Ronald Knox's voice in the hallway outside his office, and his mind conjured up an image of the young reaper. He imagined his easy-going smile, and the way his cheeks dimpled with the expression. He thought of his voice and that oddly endearing dialect of English he used, with his odd slang and shortened words. There was something about him that got to William, and he had just begun to realize that his thoughts concerning Knox weren't entirely professional.

"This is the last thing I need," he sighed, opening up a folder to look over the reports. Of course, the first folder he opened belonged to the very agent he found so often on his mind. The photo within the file folder showed Knox grinning and making the "death" salute with both hands. He was cheeky, a bit cocky and irrepressible—exactly the opposite of William. He was also a bit too attractive for his own good. Will couldn't think of a single other reaper that could make such chunky glasses look good. They were practically goggles, but Knox made them work, somehow.

He stared at the photo for several moments, until there was a knock at his door that shook him out of his daze. "Enter."

As if summoned by his own troubled thoughts, Ronald Knox poked his head in. William hastily shut the file folder and rested his hands on top of it, threading the fingers together. "What is it, Mister Knox?"

"Uh, I was just droppin' by t' see if ya need anything before I clock out, boss. I figure I owe ya that much, since I accidentally pegged ya with the paperclip t'day."

"The word is 'today'," corrected William—even though he'd come to think of Ronald's way of speaking strangely attractive, "and no, thank you. I'm afraid I shall be here for some time."

Ronald stepped into the office almost shyly, and he lowered his gaze. "I could…ya know…help with some of it. Instead of staying here all night workin' on it, you could drop some of it off at my desk and I can do it t'morrow."

William's brow slowly rose. "Are you actually volunteering to do additional paperwork, Mister Knox?" He smirked slightly in spite of himself. "You, who has difficulty staying awake while doing such 'boring' work?"

Ronald shrugged and smiled sheepishly at him, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Well, yeah. I still feel bad about the paperclip thing, and I know ya've been real busy. I don't mind takin' on a little more if it'll give ya a little more free time, sir."

Will didn't quite know how to respond to that. He'd had agents suck up to him before, offering to take on additional work for the soul purpose of getting on his good side in the hopes of a promotion. None of them had ever made such an offer for altruistic reasons, however. Ronald seemed genuinely interested in lightening the burden on him, and that was a strange thing, indeed.

"That is very…considerate of you," said William carefully, still surprised. "I may take you up on that offer, Knox. For now, go ahead and clock out, and enjoy the rest of your evening."

Ronald nodded. "Okay. G'night, sir."

William smirked in bemusement as the young man left his office. Knox was blushing. How interesting. In fact, the boy seemed to blush quite a lot around him. William found that peculiar, considering how easily Ronald flirted with the ladies downstairs. Was he really so intimidating to him, or could it be something else?

Shaking his head to banish such speculation, William returned his attention to the files and he sorted out which ones he would work on tonight, and which ones he would leave on Knox's desk for processing in the morning.

* * *

"What the hell's _wrong_ with me," groaned Ronald to himself as he got into the elevator. "Paperwork? _Really_?"

He'd initially gone to William's office to ask if he'd be interested in going out for a bit with him, Eric and Alan. The three of them decided they'd hit the pub after work for a drink, and they thought it would be nice to extend and invitation to the boss, seeing as he'd just been saying earlier that day that he never got any time off. He chickened out, though, and the only thing he could think of as an excuse for dropping in was to offer to help with the paperwork.

"Well, at least he seemed kinda grateful," he sighed. Or else he was just humoring him. He hoped he wasn't getting in over his head by offering to take on some of Spears' workload. "I'll just have t' be extra careful when I'm doing it, and not screw up."

It would be just his luck to make a mistake or do a sloppy job and make his boss clean up behind him. The point was to lessen William's work load, not add to it.

His cell phone began to ring, and he dug it out of his pocket to answer it. "Knox, here. Oh, hey Alan-senpai. I'm on my way down t' the lobby now. No, I didn't. I was gonna, but he looked really busy and I didn't think he'd go for it. Uh-huh. Well, I ended up volunteering t' do some of his paperwork, instead. Yeah, I know…I think I can handle it, though. It's boring stuff, but it's not all that complicated. Okay, meet ya in the parking garage, then."

He hung up and waited for the elevator to touch down, and then he went to the parking garage to join Eric and Alan.

* * *

"What're ya grinning 'bout?" Eric questioned his lover when Alan hung up the phone.

"Ronald," answered the brunet. "The poor thing lost his nerve."

"Hmph…guess I owe ya some money, then."

Alan chuckled. They'd made a bet on whether Ron would go through with his plan to invite the boss out with them. Eric didn't believe him when Alan predicted the outcome, because he couldn't imagine Ronald being too shy to ask anyone out—platonically or otherwise.

"I'll let you pay me some other way," Alan said when Eric started to dig out his wallet. "Keep the money."

Eric waggled his eyebrows at him. "Wha' sort o' payment did yeh have in mind?"

"You'll just have to find that out when we get home, won't you?" Grinning up at him, Alan put his arms around his waist and he kissed his throat. "Let's just say it isn't for young eyes to see."

"Yeah, I don't want my young eyes t' see, either," called Ronald's voice. He approached with a grin as the couple released each other. "So what does he owe y' money for anyhow, Alan-senpai?"

"Just a small wager," answered the small brunet smoothly. "Ready to go?"

Ron nodded. "More than. Let's get outta here and do some drinking!"

"Now, I don't want you two getting smashed, this time," warned Alan. "I can't carry you both to the car and I don't want the embarrassment of getting the bouncer to help me with you again."

"I can't get smashed anyway," Ronald pointed out with a shrug as he opened one of the back doors on Alan's blue sedan and ducked in. "I've got a lot of extra paperwork t' do tomorrow, and that's gonna be painful enough without a hangover."

Eric and Alan got in and buckled up. "So how'd it go from asking tha boss tae come out wi' us tae yeh takin' on some of his paperwork, anyhow?" questioned the Scotsman. "Doesn't sound like ya, Ronnie."

"I dunno what happened," sighed the younger blond. "I was all ready t' say: _'hey boss, we're going out for drinks and we thought ya might want t' come with.'_ But then I saw all that paperwork on his desk and…I guess I just figured he'd never go for it, so then I had to come up with some other reason for stopping by."

"I swear tha man's gonna snap one day," predicted Eric, "an' he'll either scythe himself or Sutcliff when it happens."

"Eric, don't say things like that," chastised Alan as he pulled out of the parking garage and into traffic. "He's our boss."

"Aye, an' he's abou' as uptight as they come," insisted Eric. "It's no' good fer anyone tae spend tha' much time cooped up in tha office. Tha's why I suggested Ronnie go invite him. Even if it's only fer a little drink wi' us now an' then, he ought tae try and get out."

"He has a lot more responsibilities than we do." Alan stopped at a red light, and he reached over to rub Eric's knee. "Maybe some other time."

In the back seat, Ronald sighed. Eric heard the sound, and he turned around in his seat to look back at him. "Wha's tha long face about, kid? Startin' tae regret offering tae do all that paperwork?"

"Yeah," agreed Ronald. "I guess I screwed myself pretty good with that."

"It was a nice gesture," said Eric with a shrug. "Cheer up. Maybe tha' cute waitress ya like will be there tonight."

Beside him, Alan cat a sidelong look at the Scotsman. They'd been playing along with Ronald's flirtations for two years now, leaving it up to him to decide when and if he ever came out of the closet. Eric, however, seemed just as oblivious as Grell to the way the boy behaved around Spears. Alan still hadn't said anything, allowing them to believe Ronald's awkward reactions around William were simply due to intimidation. It was probably better for Ronald that Grell remain ignorant, and Alan really wasn't sure how Eric would feel about his son crushing on the boss. The Scotsman might decide to get protective of him and then he'd have a fine time trying to explain why he took such a personal interest in who Ronald fantasized about.

Alan sighed. Sometimes he thought it would just be easier if Eric would just confess to Ronald that he was his father. He'd sneakily confirmed it for his own piece of mind last year, when Ronald went in for a standard physical. He'd given samples of his own DNA on the same day, so that the doctor could secretly perform a paternity test—a thing which might not have happened, had Eric not been friends with the man. Ronnie was definitely his son. Now the question was whether or not Eric would ever tell the young man or not.

"Now what are ya sighing 'bout?" questioned Eric. "Am I tha only one in a good mood t'night?"

Alan smirked. "It's nothing. I'm just glad the work day is over with."

* * *

They pulled up to the pub, and Eric got out to put money in the meter while Alan and Ronald went inside to get their table. "I'm sure there will be other chances to get Mr. Spears out of his office," offered the brunet to Knox as they sat down.

Ronald shrugged. "Maybe."

_~Or maybe I should just give up this pipe dream of him ever being more than my boss. It would have been a good excuse to invite him out without makin' it seem like a date, though. I'm such a chickenshit.~_

Alan studied him from behind the menu. "Ronald, you know if there's ever anything you need to get off your chest, you can come to us."

The blond flushed a little. Sometimes he thought Alan saw right through him. "Yeah, I know." He winked at the waitress as she came to get their drink orders, just as Eric came inside to join them. "Hey, beautiful. I'll have a lavender martini, the big bloke'll have an old fashioned, and our friend'll have a glass of shiraz."

It had become such a common ritual to end the work day with drinks that each of them knew just what to order for each other. Ronald felt a bit more confident as the pretty blond waitress blushed in response to his flirting, and he could pretend for a moment that he wasn't so helplessly enamored with a man he'd probably never have.

"Make mine half a glass," requested Alan. "I have to drive."

"Absolutely," she said with a smile, and then she was off to fetch their drinks.

Ronald relaxed in his booth seat and he looked at the big television monitor, which was displaying a game of cricket. His nose crinkled. "What a boring sport. I'll be glad when the season's over with. I'd rather be watching rugby."

"Same here," agreed Eric. "So who's yer latest victim gonna be, Ronnie?"

"Huh?"

"He means date," clarified Alan. "Are you taking anyone out this weekend? I'm sorry we aren't available."

"Oh, right." He shrugged. "That's okay. You've got the right t' have a couple's night out once in a while. Er, I haven't really thought much on it. Guess I'd better start going through my phone book before all the girls are taken for the weekend."

Eric snorted. "I've seen ya in action, kid. Even if they've already go' a date, most girls would blow it off tae go out wi' ya."

"Yeah, but I don't wanna get a date by stealing from some other bloke." Ronald shrugged, knowing full well that Eric was right. It was too bad he couldn't apply his confidence with the ladies to his interactions with a certain handsome Dispatch supervisor. "Maybe I'll just go out on my own and get some new numbers, or even have a night out on th' mortal side. I've seen a few cute birds in London."

"Jus' be careful wi' tha'," advised Eric seriously. "Datin' mortals comes wi' some baggage—especially if ya get attached to 'em."

Ronald waved it off. "Don't worry about that. If I take a human chippie out, it's just for fun. I don't even get attached t' the Shinigami girls I date."

"But they get attached to you," reasoned Alan with a little smile. "Hence why Eric calls them 'victims'."

"Hey, he's got no room to talk!" Ronald smirked at Eric. "I've heard stories about Slingby's conquests, back in th' day. Every guy wanted t' be him and every girl wanted t' be _with_ him."

"Tha's no' entirely true," chuckled Eric. "Some o' tha guys wanted tae be wi' me, too." He winced as Alan poked him. "But now there's only one tha' matters tae me," he amended.

"Good save," approved Alan.

Their drinks came, and Ronald's phone started to go off. He sighed and pulled it out of his pocket to check it. "Oh, it's my mum texting me."

He didn't notice the way Eric tensed as he read over the text. "Oops…I forgot I'm s'posed t' go over for dinner Sunday. Good thing I didn't make any plans for that day, yet."

He started texting her back, and he raised a brow at Eric when the Scotsman leaned over to look. "Gettin' kinda nosey there, Eric-senpai."

"I'm jus' lookin' at yer case. It's a new one, aye?"

Ronald nodded absently. "Uh-huh."

_"Hi Mum. Just having drinks with some mates. See u Sunday. Love u!"_

Eric sat back with a sigh and took a hefty swallow of his drink, grimacing at the burn. "Does she ever ask 'bout yer work, Ronnie? Ever tell her 'bout any of us?"

The blond shrugged and put his phone away. "Sometimes. I don't give her many details, really. I mean, she's a reaper, but she's never worked with Dispatch. Somehow it doesn't seem right t' tell her some of the gory details o' what we get up to, y' know?"

Alan nodded. "Civilians live sheltered lives, compared to Dispatch agents. Even some of the other departments in our building can hardly believe the tales they hear from us, at times."

"Right." Ronald sipped his drink, and he shook his head. "And I don't want her t' worry about me. She knows it can be dangerous, but she doesn't need t' know _how_ dangerous and lose sleep over it…so I only tell her the entertaining bits and leave the scary stuff out."

Eric looked into his glass as if seeking answers to some riddle. "Yer protective of her. Tha's good."

"You bet! Anyone messes with my Mum and they'll get a face full of lawnmower."

Beneath the table unseen, Alan patted Eric's knee. "Well, I think that's how any good son would feel about his mother. Most of us don't have parents to know what it's like first-hand, but it seems perfectly logical to me."

* * *

Later that night after they dropped Ronald off and went home, Eric was pensive and rather withdrawn. Alan thought of the last time he'd seen him like this, after his old partner got killed by a demon. He didn't really need to ask him what was on his mind, but he did so anyway as he cuddled up to him in the bed.

"What are you thinking of?"

Eric sighed and put an arm around him. "Wha' am I doin', Alan? I'm tryin' tae be his friend 'cause I dunno how tae be his father, but sooner or later, he's bound tae find out, isn't he? If he mentions mah name tae his mother an' tells her he works wi' me, she might spill tha beans."

"But she knew you when you were still with the Edinburgh division," Alan pointed out. "She might just assume it's a different Eric Slingby…or even if she doesn't, she might not say anything at all. Ronald is twenty now, and she still hasn't told him."

"She might change her mind 'bout tha' if she finds out I work wi' him." Eric stroked the brunet's hair and stared up at the ceiling. "Beatrice didnae strike me as a daft woman. I imagine she'll start diggin' tae find out if I'm tha same Eric she slept with years ago, and once she's go' confirmation, she might decide it's best tae come clean wi' him, before I can."

Alan bit his lip. "Well, have you ever thought to try and contact her? Speak with her about it? If she knows that you're aware of it, maybe the two of you can come to an agreement on how to handle it."

"I was actually thinkin' along those lines," confessed Eric. He reached for his phone and opened up his contacts list to show Alan. "I wasnae reading Ronald's text exchange wi' her in the pub, when I leaned o'er tae look at his screen. I was getting her number."

Alan wasn't really surprised. Eric could be quite sneaky, when it suited his needs. "So will you call her tomorrow?"

"I…dun' know yet," sighed the blond. "I've gotta think 'bout it…decide wha' tha hell I'm even gonna say if I get tha balls tae ring her up at all."

Alan kissed his bare chest, running his palm over his torso lovingly. "Just tell her the truth. It may be the best way to resolve this, love."

Deciding he needed a distraction if he was going to get any rest tonight, Alan let his hand slide lower, beneath the covers. Eric always slept in the nude these days, so he had no other barriers in the way of his goal. He smiled softly as Eric's breath caught a little, and he kissed his neck.

"For now, just put the phone away. You still owe me for that bet, remember?"

Eric obligingly set the phone down on the nightstand, and he smirked. "Time tae pay up, eh?"

Without any further mention of his dilemma, the Scotsman rolled over and pinned his partner beneath him, kissing him deeply.

* * *

-To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

"Knox, wake up."

Ronald groaned and rolled over on his couch, swatting in the general direction of the familiar voice. "'M sleepin', Eric-senpai."

"I can see tha'," replied the Scotsman, "an' it's a good thing I came half an hour early. Get yer arse up an' get ready fer work, kid."

Ronald opened his eyes and blinked, his face mere inches from the cushions on the back of the couch. "Ugh…that's right; it's only Wednesday."

"Aye. I brought ya some coffee. Go get an' get changed, Ronnie. I warned yeh I'd drag ya out o' bed mahself if I had tae."

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," mumbled the sleepy blond, sitting up reluctantly. He peered around for his glasses, and he found them on his cluttered up coffee table. Yawning and stretching, he scratched his side and he looked at his friend as Eric had a seat in the armchair by the couch. "Didn't sleep all that well," he excused. "You're lookin' kind of tired too."

Eric smirked and he sipped on the cup of coffee he'd picked up for himself on the way over. "Had tae get up early an' make sure you got movin'."

"Sorry," sighed Ronald. "I'll try t' pick up a good alarm clock today after work, so ya don't have to keep doing this."

Eric shrugged. "Just go get ready an' dun' worry 'bout it." He nodded at the additional cup on the table. "There's yer coffee."

"I'll drink it when I come out of the bathroom," informed Ron. "Thanks, Eric."

He went into the little bathroom to have a quick shower and change into his uniform for the day. He'd have to do laundry, soon. He only had two good suits right now, so he was going to have to settle for his old blazer and slacks for today. First he brushed his teeth and then he hopped in the shower, turning the temperature down low to help wake him up. Ronald was shivering by the time he stepped out, but the chilly water did help wake him up a bit and it shrunk his morning wood effectively.

Some fifteen minutes later, he came out wearing his uniform, with his hair freshly washed, blowdried and styled. "That's a bit better," he said as he sat back down on the couch and reached for the coffee Eric had brought him. "Where's Alan?"

"I let him sleep in 'till his alarm goes off," answered Eric. "We'll go in separate cars today."

Ronald nodded. "That's cool." He sipped his coffee carefully, reminded of the time he gulped some down while it was still too hot and ended up scalding his esophagus. "Hey Eric, can I ask ya something? I mean about dating."

Eric shrugged and checked his watch. "Sure. We've go' a little time before we have tae leave. Wha's on yer mind?"

"Do y' think it'd be wrong for someone in management to date someone in a lower department? Like a subordinate?"

"I'd better no'," said the Scotsman with a chuckle. "I'd have tae be a hypocrite if I did. Al was lower rank than me when we started dating."

"But ya weren't…like…his boss."

Eric shook his head. "No' exactly, no. I waited 'till he graduated from bein' my apprentice before I let anything happen between us." He frowned at Ronald. "Something goin' on, kid?"

"I was just wondering," said Ronald hastily. "There's no sexual harassment goin' on, if that's what you're worried about. I just wanted t' know for future reference whether it's okay or not."

"Hmm. It could be messy if things went sour, but there's no policy against it in Dispatch. Long as tha higher rankin' one isnae holdin' tha other's job o'er their heads tae force 'em intae anything, it's probably fine. Go' someone in mind, Ronnie?"

"Nah," lied the blond. "Just covering my bases. Ya know how I am. Might find a cute lady in upper management some day and want t' ask her out. I wouldn't want anyone to get in trouble, though."

Eric looked vaguely suspicious for a moment longer, but then he shrugged. "At least yer willing tae check first. Cannae say I ever thought tae do tha', back in my dating days."

* * *

It wasn't until they went into work together and Eric noticed the way Ronald got flustered as soon as he saw William that he realized what was really going on. It honestly did surprise him, even though he'd already agreed with Alan's assessment that Ronald might be at least bi. Seeing as he swung both ways himself, the notion didn't shock him. Finding out that the object of his same-gender interest happened to be Spears was a bit disconcerting, though. Maybe he'd misread him, though. He probably wouldn't have even thought anything of it, if Knox hadn't brought up the subject of management dating subordinates before work.

"Al, I think Ronnie might have a thing fer tha boss," he informed his lover as they had their lunch together later on in the office they shared. He looked at the brunet expectantly, prepared for him to scoff or stare in shock. Instead, Alan just nodded and stirred his noodle bowl.

"Yes, I know."

Eric blinked at him. "Ya _know_? How long have ya known? I was hoping ye'd say I was imagining things."

Alan smiled gently at him, and he sighed. "I've known for a good while, Eric…or at least suspected it. If you're noticing it too, then I must have been right."

Eric stared at his meatball sub without really seeing it. He didn't know what to think or feel about it. It wasn't as though he had a right to start playing the role of the protective Da now, after being absent from Ronnie's life up until adulthood. "What gave ya tha first clue?" he asked, wanting to compare notes.

"Seeing him looking at William the same way I looked at you, when I was his age and trying to sort my own feelings out. I've been where he is." Alan smirked. "Though I'm sure I still look at you like that. At least now it's not just a hopeless crush."

Eric sighed. "It was righ' in front of m' face an' I ne'er even noticed it."

"Well, Ronald _has_ been good about keeping it subtle enough that it could pass for a sense of intimidation or admiration for a superior," excused Alan. "That's why I never said anything. My gut feeling said otherwise, but I'm no mind reader."

"Then maybe tha's all it is," said Eric hopefully, finally taking a bite of his sub.

Alan looked at him curiously. "What if it's not, Eric? You aren't going to get irate about it, are you?"

The Scotsman hesitated. He chewed and swallowed the bite in his mouth, and he sighed, speaking his earlier thoughts out loud. "Wha' right do I have? I jus' told him this morning tha' it's no' such a bad thing fer a higher authority tae date someone under 'em in rank. I'd be a hypocrite if I said o'er wise, wouldn't I?"

Alan shrugged. "More or less."

"I jus' dun' want tae see him ruin his career or get hurt," debated Eric. "Say somethin' happens between him an' Spears…wha' then? If they split up, how's it gonna effect his work?"

"That's a risk," agreed Alan, "but _we_ took it, and we're just fine."

"Aye, but tha's no guarantee tha same would be true fer him." Eric put his food down and grimaced. "Och, I've go' tae stop thinkin' about it. There's no bloody point, 'till somethin' actually happens. I've still got tae figure out if I'm goin' tae call his mother an' what I'll even say tae her if I do."

"Then don't worry about it, right now," suggested Alan. "If we're right about this, Ronald's nowhere _near_ ready to approach the supervisor romantically, and I honestly couldn't tell you if Spears is even attracted to men. Worry about what's happening right _now_, Eric. What you need to worry about at the moment is how you are going to settle this parentage situation."

Eric gave him a rueful smirk. "Lucky I've go' yeh tae keep me grounded. I s'pose I ought tae work out what I'm gonna say tae Beatrice, before I even try tae call."

Alan nodded and gave a pointed glance to Eric's barely touched lunch. "You shouldn't think on an empty stomach. Now _I_ get to remind _you_ to feed yourself."

The older reaper chuckled and picked up his sandwich. "Enjoying tha', eh?"

* * *

He was going to do it. He was going to finally tell William how he felt, and throw his chips on the table to fall where they may. He had to, because he couldn't bear another night of fantasizing over what could be, never to have closure. Even if he got rejected, at least he would finally get confirmation that it was never going to happen, and he could try to move on and forget the whole thing.

Ronald walked into his superior's office to hand in his reports, and he froze as he looked at him. So bloody handsome, and so suave. He himself might dress stylishly, but he knew he would never match William T. Spears' effortless, masculine grace and poise.

"Yes?" William said without looking up from his paperwork.

Ronald cleared his throat, trying to remember to speak more properly and use less slang. William liked formal speech. "Boss, I'm here to hand in my reports for the day…and to tell you that I would love it if you bent me over that desk of yours and fucked my brains out, right here and right now."

Well, maybe not _too_ proper.

William's hand jerked, and whatever he was writing on the top document ended up with a long, scrawling line. He slowly lifted his head to stare at him. "I'm sorry; could you repeat that?"

Ronald shrugged, flushing. "Sure. I said I want you to bend me over your desk and fuck my brains out, sir."

"That's…what I thought you said."

William stood up, and Ronald nervously held his ground as he crossed the room. The taller reaper stood silently before him for a few moments, before speaking again in a low purr. "You are a filthy degenerate, Ronald Knox. I fear I must teach you some manners."

Ronald swallowed. "Whatever you think is best, sir."

With a smirk, William slid his hand under the blond's tie and pulled the tail of it loose from the vest it was tucked into. "Indeed."

He grasped the tie and pulled Ronald roughly towards him, his mouth descending to his in a punishing, bruising kiss. Ronald gasped and moaned into his mouth, accepting his dominating tongue eagerly as he twined his arms around his neck. Oh yeah…this was what he wanted…what he craved. He didn't resist as his boss tugged on the tie insistently, guiding him back toward his desk without breaking the kiss. He finally released his lips after turning him around to push him against the desk, his hand clamping down on the back of his neck.

"Ronald…"

The blond closed his eyes. "Will…I've wanted this so bad."

"Ronald Knox, are you listening to me?"

Ronald blinked, shaken out of his daydream by the supervisor's faintly annoyed voice. He flushed in mortification over yet another lapse. "Y-yes sir? Sorry, I uh…didn't catch that. What'd ya say?"

William sighed, his lips compressing briefly. "I said that we are in for a busy week," he said with carefully controlled patience. "Your retrieval numbers are impressive, but you must be prepared to work even harder. The death rates have been climbing of late. In addition to the usual cases of people being killed by robbers, in street brawls or dying of illness, we seem to have a serial killer adding to the numbers. The prostitute that you and Sutcliff collected yesterday was not the only victim. Two others have been found in a similar state."

Ronald shrugged, trying to will his cheeks to cool down. "Prostitutes get killed all th' time, boss. It's one of th' hazards of their occupation, innit?" He winced at his own crude dialog when William's brow twitched. "Sorry…I'll try to tone it down."

William chose not to address his manner of speaking. "It's true that the ladies of the night live under dangerous conditions," he admitted with an elegant nod of his head, "but what usually occurs is stabbing, throttling or bludgeoning to death—often by their own pimps. These three cases have been unique, however. The killer used surgical precision and each victim was missing certain parts belonging only to females; such as the one you collected whose womb was removed."

"What other bits went missing?" Ronald grimaced, wishing he hadn't asked that question but morbidly curious, all the same.

"Being a gentleman, I loathe describing it." William pondered for a moment, and then tapped his gloved fingers on the surface of his desk. "However, as a manager of this division, it falls upon me to ensure my agents are as prepared as possible. One was missing a breast. The second was relieved of her labia and clitoris."

Ronald's thighs tightened in sympathy. He was not expert in anatomy, but he imagined that would be like having his junk chopped off. "Ouch. I sure hope they were already dead when it happened."

"Regrettably not," answered William. "According to reports of their records viewed by the agents collecting them, these females were quite alive when it happened. The killer waited to slit their throats until after he'd committed these horrendous acts. Scotland Yard is only aware of one death, so far. The other bodies weren't discovered by authorities, and they were a couple of days old before our agents found them. Yours was the most recent victim."

"Sounds like someone really hates women," reasoned Knox with a frown. "That's awful. I know I'm not s'posed t' care as a reaper, and I know most people think o' working girls as trash anyway, but still…it's awful."

William smirked without humor. "We are to be neutral in the matter of ferrying souls, Mr. Knox. There is no shame in finding the manner of their deaths appalling. The brutality of these attacks offends even me. It is vulgar, merciless…but not crazed. There is a method to the madness behind all this, and the responsible party is clearly learned enough to understand anatomy. The most dangerous criminal is the intelligent one."

"Yeah, dangerous to mortals, anyhow." Ron shrugged. "We're reapers though, so we aren't likely t' be in any danger from this creep when we're out picking up after him."

William's fingers ceased their drumming on the desk. "We aren't certain that the killer is even human, Knox."

Ronald's eyes widened. "Oh. Ya mean like it could be a demon?"

William shook his head. "The souls were intact. You and the other agents would have arrived to find an empty shell, with no reels left to gather, if the culprit were a demon. To quote a masterful bard; _'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio'_. It could be any number of things, from a were-creature to a witch."

Ronald's brows furrowed. "But ain't witches human?"

"Human, yes," agreed the older reaper, "but they are not classified as entirely mortal. Their dealings with the otherworld, spirits and magic make them quite possibly the most dangerous humans one could encounter. Fascinating creatures, really. They live between worlds, with one foot in the afterlife and one foot in the material plane. I daresay a witch could give any non-human supernatural a run for their money—including reapers. Has no-one schooled you on witches, Mr. Knox?"

Ronald shook his head. "Can't say they have, sir. I've never met one. Are they all withered and warty?"

"Only the very old or aesthetically unfortunate. Witches appear as any other human—until one looks at their aura. That can be quite the light show."

Ronald smirked. "Sounds like you've got a thing for witches, boss. So I guess they're not 'vermin', like demons?"

"Hmm, some," admitted the supervisor softly. "It depends on the witch, really. Some work with the light, while others are neutral. Some work with the darkness and demons. Those are the ones to be most wary of…the ones I harbor contempt for. Still, even the warlocks are to be respected. Never allow yourself to believe that you have the upper hand over any witch, simply because they are human."

Ronald nodded. "Right. So you've met a few, huh?"

The boss had never chatted so extensively with him, and Ronald wanted to keep him going for as long as he could. He liked the little hint of a smile on Will's lips as he talked about what was apparently his favorite type of supernatural. It gave one a peek into William's personality that he otherwise kept boxed up.

For a brief moment, Ronald was treated to a glimpse of a genuine smile of amusement from his boss. "Let us just say that when one of them astral projects into one's bedroom by accident, it's a rather memorable event. Witches are practically the only beings that can enter the Shinigami realm without permission or assistance from us."

Ronald's brows shot up. "Yeah? Were ya…naked?" He flushed, hoping he didn't come off sounding like a perv for asking.

"Fortunately, I was not," clarified the older reaper, "but she did give me quite a start. I was just about to bed down for the night, when she appeared before my wardrobe. I mistook her for a ghost at first—perhaps an escaped stray from the library vaults that defied containment. It does happen, now and then."

Ronald grinned. "So what'd ya do?" He walked over to one of the chairs on the other side of William's desk and sat down, making himself comfortable.

William huffed a bit, a quiet, subtle noise of amusement that Ron found immediately attractive. "Well…I threw my book at her. As I said; she gave me a start."

Ronald laughed. "Ya struck a girl? Shame on you, boss."

"It was reflexive," excused William with a slight shrug. "I'm not used to people suddenly appearing in my home, without invitation. She was not in material form, however, so it passed harmlessly through her. She was just as startled as I was, and she apologized profusely for the intrusion."

The blond couldn't stop grinning. "What'd she say?"

"She said: '_Oh, dear. Begging your pardon, good sir. This isn't at all where I intended to go!'_"

William chuckled softly at the memory, and Ronald was stunned by the sound.

_~Gods, I want to lick him. Okay, Knoxie…down, boy. Play it cool, for death's sake!_~

"W-what happened after that, sir?" he managed, trying to take his mind off the impulse to jump on the boss's desk and make good on his compulsive urges.

"We ended up chatting for most of the night." William seemed quite fond of the memory. "There were certain things that both of us were forbidden from revealing to one another, naturally, but we did learn from each other. She even taught me how to ground and center—which I have been doing regularly each morning as part of my routine, ever since."

"She sounds…nice." Ronald bit back some jealousy. Did Spears have a thing with this witch? "What's 'grounding and centering', anyhow?"

"Essentially, it is the alignment of chakras—which are energy points in the bodies of all living things…even reapers. Learning to channel that energy, expulse the negative and allow the positive to flow…it does help a bit. Consider it a daily recharge, of sorts. Witches are not the only ones to make use of the exercise. Monks do it as well, so I've learned."

"Wow…sounds kinda cool. What else did she teach ya? Or did ya ever see her again?"

_~Are ya still seeing her? Am I totally screwed?_~

"Yes, I saw her again. Quite a few times, in fact. I even met her in the flesh. She taught me basic shielding, to contain my thoughts, feelings and energy from being read by others. It has proved a useful tool."

"Oh." Ronald had no idea what 'shielding' was, but the basic description explained a lot of things about Spears and his seemingly impenetrable stoicism. "So do you two still hang out?"

William shook his head. "Sadly, no. She passed…oh, I believe it was seventeen years ago. Regardless of her powers, she was still susceptible to mortal illness. She died of pneumonia at the age of thirty-three. I was the one who reaped her, in fact…and she knew me immediately and went with me without a fuss."

Ronald didn't quite know what to say. There seemed to be a hint of sadness in William's eyes, but maybe he was imagining it. "You got attached," he finally guessed.

William gave a brief, single nod. "It happens. There is hardly a reaper in existence that manages to make it through his or her career without eventually having an ill-advised attachment to some short-lived mortal. Powerful though they may be, witches cannot extend their lifespan beyond the norm for their species. I have no regrets in knowing her, nor do I wish I could have granted her immortality. It was her time, and she accepted that. If only all humans could do the same."

It was like being presented with a treasure, this sharing of such a personal event in William's life. Ronald couldn't say what he'd done to deserve it, but he instinctively knew it wasn't a thing the boss shared with others readily.

"What was her name, sir?"

William's gaze was steady on him as he answered. "Lorraine. And yes, I counted her as a friend. I would…appreciate it if you would keep this between us, Knox. I'm not even sure why I revealed this information to you, except…"

He hesitated and looked to the window, frowning. "You have a disarming presence."

Ronald's heart beat faster. If he had such an effect on William's stoicism, than maybe he provoked _other_ feelings, as well. "I promise, boss. It's just between you and me."

"'_You_ _and I_'," corrected Spears with a faint smirk, "but thank you for your discretion. Now then, we've chatted about my past enough, I think. To get back on the original subject; I want you to be especially careful whilst gathering any records from women that fall victim to this new killer. Aside from the usual danger of demonic carrion attempting to devour their souls, we still can't be certain of the manner of creature behind all this. Is that understood, Ronald Knox?"

Ronald nodded, his yellow-gold bangs falling over one eye with the motion. "Yes, sir. I'll be careful. Thanks."

Was he imagining it, or was Spears taking a personal interest in his safety? Probably just wishful thinking, on his part.

"Very good, then. You are dismissed. Have a pleasant evening, Agent Knox."

Ronald checked a sigh. Well, it was good while it lasted. "You too, boss. I'll see y' tomorrow."

* * *

Later that evening after work and dinner, Eric paced in the apartment he shared with his partner, working out his opening speech in his head. "A'right, she's just a woman. I mean, she's more than tha', but…nothin' tae be scared of. Haven't talked tae her in years, but…dammit, I'm no' tha villain, here…"

Alan came up behind him and he began to rub his broad shoulders. "No, you aren't…and neither is she. It was a one-night stand, Eric. Imagine how she must have felt when she realized she was carrying your child as a result. Just think of that, when you call her. It's best not to be confrontational, love. Try to be understanding and patient, and I'm sure you can work out an agreement with her."

Eric took a deep breath and nodded, laying a hand over one of Alan's smaller ones. "Thank ya…fer bein' so understanding."

Alan smiled and rested his cheek against his back. "You've been thanking me for that ever since we found out. You don't need to, you know. You are my lover, my partner and my best friend…and I don't feel threatened by her. I just want you to be happy, okay?"

"Aye, got it." Eric turned and cupped his face to give him a kiss. "I'll try not tae be sae manic about it. Guess I'd better get it over wi', eh?"

"Would you like me to go into the bedroom while you call her, to give you some privacy?"

Eric shook his head. "No need fer that, sweetheart. Like ya said, yer mah partner in all things, an' I think ya deserve tae know exactly wha's goin' on wi' this. You've taken Ronnie under yer wing as much as I have, after all. Yer his 'second father'."

Alan smiled and nodded, taking his place on the couch while Eric pulled out his cell phone and looked up the contact number. The Scotsman cleared his throat, licked his lips and hit the "call" button, shooting his partner a dreading look. Alan gave him two thumbs-up and a supportive smile.

"You'll be fine," whispered the brunet. "Just be honest."

Eric nodded convulsively, and he withdrew a clove and lit it up while he waited for the other line to pick up. Just as he took a drag of the cigar, a familiar female voice answered the phone. "Knox residence," she said. He'd forgotten how melodic her voice was, and for a moment he just stood there with a stupid expression on his face.

"Hullo?" prompted Beatrice. "Is anyone there, or is this an accidental bum call?"

Eric jerked himself out of his stupor at the mention of a "bum call"—which generally referred to people accidentally calling contacts after sitting on their phone. "Uh, no, it's no' an accidental call," he answered. "It's…it's Eric."

There was a moment of silence. "Eric?" She replied, sounding perplexed. "Sorry, but do I know ya? Eric who?"

"Slingby," he answered, pacing again. "Tha father o' yer son Ronald. Do ya remember, me, Beatrice?"

"Oh…oh, bloody hell. Christ on stilts man, how'd you…where are y' at?" She sounded faintly panicked. He could relate.

"In London," he answered her. "Shinigami side, o' course. I transferred here permanently from Edinburgh. Didn't expect tae run into tha son I ne'er knew I sired."

On the couch, Alan groaned softly and facepalmed. "Eric…gently," he whispered.

The Scotsman winced, realizing he'd come off harsher than intended. "I'm no' mad at ya," he assured the now silent woman on the phone. "I jus' want tae talk 'bout how we're gonna handle this. I found out by chance when he dropped his wallet at tha dance last year an' I saw a photo of ya in it. Did a paternity test too, so I know he's mine."

"Oh, bugger," she huffed. "Eric, I…well, we haven't seen or spoken since that night, and I…it was such a shock t' me when I found out I was carrying. I really didn't know how to tell you, and I never expected you to cross paths with my Ronnie…well, _our_ Ronnie…"

"Shh, Beatrice, it's a'right," he assured her, smirking a little in spite of himself. She sounded like a female version of her son. That candid way of speaking had been what initially attracted him. "I'm no' calling tae give ye a tongue-lashing, woman. I jus'…needed tae clear some things up an' figure out what tae do. I've been mullin' over it fer a year now, an' I think we've got some decisions tae make."

"Oh, buggery fuck…"

Eric laughed in spite of himself. "Calm down. Jus' breathe."

She took a few deep breaths, before answering him. "Sorry love, I just…wasn't expecting this. I've wanted t' tell him about you so many times, but I was too cowardly. Didn't know how to contact you, didn't know what t' say…I thought what y' didn't know wouldn't hurt you. Have you…told him? He hasn't mentioned it yet."

Eric shook his head. "No, I havenae said anything. I dinnae know how, truth be told. But Beatrice…I think we ought tae talk about it an' decide when an' how tae tell him the truth. He deserves tae know who his Da is, even though it terrifies me tae think o' how he might react."

She sighed. "Bloody 'ell. You're right, of course. Eric, I am so sorry."

"It's in tha past now," he insisted. "Wha' we've go' tae think on is Ronnie's future. Wha' have ya been tellin' him, all these years?"

She hesitated. "Well, I…I told him that his father walked out on us when he was a babe."

Eric winced. "Ouch. Tha' stings."

"I'm sorry." She sounded sincerely contrite. "I never meant any harm t' either of you. It just seemed like the best story to give him. Oh, my sweet Ronnie's never going to forgive me, when he finds out th' truth!"

"I doubt tha'," soothed Eric. "Tha boy loves his ma. He's made it a point tae let everyone know tha', too. Might be pissed fer a while, but he'll forgive ya. It's me he might no' forgive."

"I can't toss you under the bus anymore than I already have," she objected. "I…I'll tell him the truth. This wasn't your fault. I'm sure if you'd known, you would have been involved. I never gave you that chance, Eric. I'm the lowlife, here."

The Scotsman shrugged. "I ne'er gave ya reason tae think I'd be supportive. Let's jus' say we were both irresponsible an' leave it at tha'. Question is, how long do we keep hiding this from him?"

She took a moment to think on it, before speaking in a sigh. "I'm so tired of lying t' him. I love that boy more than life itself. Eric…would y' consider coming over the weekend after next with him for dinner? We could tell him together, afterwards."

Eric glanced at Alan. "Would ya mind mah partner comin' wi' me? He's had a hand in Ronnie's training too, an' he cares fer him as much as I do."

He ignored Alan's pleading gestures and shaking head. He _needed_ the man there with him for moral support, and Alan was about the most diplomatic reaper he knew. If things went sour, Humphries had the best chance of clearing it up.

"I s'pose that would be all right," consented Beatrice. "If Ronald is friendly with him and trusts him, it might be better on him t' have a supportive person there to turn to."

Eric nodded in agreement. "I should let ya know now; Alan an' I are also in a committed relationship wi' each other. Is tha' gonna make it weird for ye?"

"Er, no…of course not," she answered. "I never knew y' were interested in the lads, but it'll be fine."

"Good. I guess…we'll see ya next weekend, then. Fer wha' it's worth, Beatrice…I'm no' sae sure I'd have made a good father figure fer tha lad. I'm his friend, more 'n anything…an' that'll prolly change after next weekend."

"We'll just see," she sighed. "Ronnie has always been sweeter than he was judgmental, though. Maybe he'll forgive th' both of us."

"Maybe," grunted Eric. "G'night, Beatrice…an' thanks fer hearin' me out an' working wi' me on a game plan."

He hung up then, and he exhaled slowly as he turned to his partner. "'M sorry fer draggin' ya into it, lover. I jus' feel like I really need ya there. I know it's a little awkward, but—"

"—So long as she understands our relationship, I can manage," interrupted Alan. "I just didn't want to get embroiled in such a personal matter…but I suppose I'm already involved. There's no use in complaining about it. I wouldn't really have it any other way."

Eric smiled and he joined him on the couch, putting an arm around him to draw him into an embrace. He pecked him on the cheek and he sighed. "Yer mah rock, Alan. I dunno if I can ever repay ya, but I'll try."

Alan smiled and laid his head on his shoulder. "You repay me every night, Eric. There's no need to worry about it."

* * *

-To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

The next Monday after the weekend, it came as no surprise to Eric when Ronald joined him and Alan in their office for lunch and made him an offer. "Hey, what are you two doing this coming weekend? I mean Sunday night? Got any plans?"

Eric glanced at Alan. They had deliberately left Sunday free, knowing that Beatrice intended to have them over for dinner. "We've go' nothin' scheduled," he answered. "Wha's up?"

Ronald shrugged and opened up his personal pizza. "I dunno how y' feel about it, but Mum and I talked last night at dinner, and she's interested in meeting some of my friends. Well, coworkers, but you're my mates, too. I told her a bit about you, Grell and the boss, and I guess she's curious. She's invited ya to come for dinner this Sunday, if you're interested."

He grimaced a little. "I know it might seem a bit weird, so if you're not up for it, that's okay."

"I think it sounds nice," Alan assured him before Eric could speak, "and I don't think it's strange for your mother to be interested in getting to know the people you work closely with. Eric, don't you think it sounds nice?"

The Scotsman grunted and nodded, finding his tongue frozen to the roof of his mouth. _~Aye. Nice an' awkward…but we've go' tae get it o'er wi' some time.~_

"Really?" Ron grinned. "Cool! I kind of expected reluctance. I think you'll like my mum. She's really laid back and she won't grill ya the way some mums might."

Alan smiled. "We'd love to, Ronald. Tell her we'll be there, and thank you for the invitation."

"That's a relief," sighed the blond. He sprinkled some Parmesan on his pizza. "I thought of inviting Grell too, but she said she only had enough ingredients t' make a meal for four people. I guess it's better she not meet Senpai first. She might get the wrong impression o' the people I work with…no offense to Grell."

Eric snorted. "Tha' would have been rich. Good call on leavin' introductions of Sutcliff fer last."

Ronald chuckled. "Yeah, I'll introduce her t' the sane ones first."

Alan smirked at his partner. "I think 'sane' might be a bit of a stretch, when it comes to Slingby."

"Oi, I'm jus' as sane as yeh are," protested Eric, before taking a bite of his roast beef sandwich.

"But far more reckless," teased the brunet. He stirred his rice bowl before spooning some into his mouth.

"Mum can appreciate reckless," promised Ronald. "She likes that sort, anyhow."

Eric nearly choked as Alan's gaze slid to him—not judging, necessarily, but there was a wry expression in his eyes. He flushed and reached for his drink to rinse his food down.

"You okay?" Ronald asked, noticing the way he coughed a bit.

Eric nodded. "Started goin' down tha wrong way," he excused.

Alan quietly resumed eating, saying nothing.

* * *

A couple of days passed, and on Wednesday, Ronald noticed that his mentor was around less and less in the office. He knew Spears had him investigating the recent string of murders, but it was starting to cut into Ronald's own reaping time. His collection rates were dropping as a result, because he wasn't permitted to reap without a senior officer yet. Even the senior officers were advised not to take on too many reapings without a partner, these days. By the time Grell finished up with whatever he was doing and met up with him to take him out collecting, other agents had already reaped half of Ronald's marks.

"Where the hell _are_ ya, Senpai?" Ronald checked his watch again, and he sighed. He was standing in the lobby, ready to jump on his mentor the minute he came in. "I'm out of things t' do and my assignments ain't gonna collect 'emselves!"

"Problem, Mr. Knox?"

A shiver immediately went up Ronald's spine at the sound of that familiar male voice, coming up behind him. He turned to regard the supervisor, hoping he wasn't about to get a lecture on his dropping collection rates. "Er, no sir," he hastily assured him. "Just waiting for my senpai to make it back in so I can go out and reap."

William checked his watch with a frown. "He is running extraordinarily late, today. How many collections have you been assigned, Knox?"

"Five," sighed Ronald. "Would have been seven, but the first two on the list were due to die over an hour ago. I'm sure some other reaper must have gotten to 'em, by now." He was really trying to speak more eloquently in Will's presence, if only to prove to the man that he wasn't just a dumb country boy. "I've got no idea how many Grell's been assigned."

William sighed. "I see." He produced his small organizer from his blazer, checking through it. "Well then, we cannot wait around for him. Wait here for me whilst I put out a memo to General Affairs, and I shall accompany you on your reaps."

Ronald's eyes widened. He felt like he'd just gotten VIP tickets to some huge event. "R-really? You'd do that, Spears-senpai?"

"You seem surprised." William adjusted his glasses. "Our department cannot afford to slack off. If your assigned partner cannot be present in a timely manner to assist you as protocol demands, then another senior officer should do so. Considering all other field agents are currently booked up and out collecting, it falls upon me to provide you backup and supervision."

Ronald heaved a sigh, looking down at his expensive white shoes. "I'm sorry, boss. I don't want t' be a burden."

William raised a brow. "This is no fault of yours. It's Sutcliff's failure. If he cannot perform the duties assigned to him then it is he who shall be penalized. Your work has been impressive, whereas I'm sorry to say, Grell's has not. Fortunately, I'm ahead enough of schedule to take up his slack. Just wait here for me, and I shall return shortly."

Ronald nodded and gave him a hesitant smile. "Thanks, sir."

* * *

_~Okay Ronald, don't think about the hot boss standing behind you. Just do the job. _Be_ the job. Be the reaper.~_

Ordinarily, he had no trouble focusing on his reaps. It was quite another story with William T. Spears watching in the background. He watched his target crossing the street, and he prepared himself for the moment. He'd never reaped in front of William before, and he desperately wanted his approval…wanted to show him what he was made of and impress him.

_~Don't think of him as your boss. He's another reaper, just like you. Confidence. Show him that Knoxie confidence. You can do this!~_

The appointed moment came, and the victim barely even noticed the man coming up behind him—until it was too late. There was a brief struggle as he was tackled into the alley, followed by a muffled groan as his attacker stabbed him several times in the gut and took off with his coin purse. Ronald didn't hesitate to act. He jumped down from the roof, masked from mortal eyes, and he sprinted into the alley as the mugger ran past him without noticing him.

"Sorry, bloke," said the blond as he summoned his scythe and approached the gasping, trembling form. "Your time's up."

He started up his mower and cut into the bewildered, dying victim, feeling William's eyes on him the whole time. He worked as quickly and efficiently as possible, paying careful attention to the reels as he collected them with his scythe.

"Alfred Jennings," he said aloud as his supervisor came up behind him. "Aged twenty-two, male, father of one and husband of Winifred Jennings. Cause of death: stabbing."

He watched the records until the final, glowing reel was drawn into his scythe, and then he withdrew his report book and scribbled into it. "No special notes. He had nothing special to contribute, so has been fully reaped for processing."

He closed the book and looked back to William. "Next?"

The tall, raven-haired man nodded, offering a low compliment. "Well done, Knox. Should your other reapings today prove as clean, I may mark you down for promotional consideration. Let's move on, shall we? Your next target is in the hospital, three blocks away."

Ronald beamed at the praise, and he forgot to curb his slang. "Thanks, boss! I'll reap 'em before they know death's comin'."

"Don't get cocky," admonished William.

Ronald winced and berated himself for letting it go to his head. For the rest of the day, he was especially careful with his collections. He had to admit, it was probably the cleanest run he'd had so far.

* * *

Grell was immediately called into William's office when he returned to headquarters, and the moment he walked through the door, he was skewered by William's icy glare.

"Close the door behind you, Grell Sutcliff," ordered the brunet.

"Goodness, you look cross," observed the redhead as he complied. He tucked a strand of crimson hair behind his ear as he crossed the room and stood before Will. "I know I was late returning and reporting in today Will, but I was—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses," snapped William, eyes narrowed on him. "Where _exactly_ have you been? I was forced to take your apprentice out in your place for his collections, and he missed out on two of them thanks to you."

"That's what I was trying to tell you," whined Grell in a fawning manner. "No need to be so cold, darling. I was out investigating the string of murders as you ordered, and I thought that I was closing in on the culprit! Sadly, it turned out to be a wild goose chase. He evaded me and what I found instead was some poor sod of a drunk."

Grell waved a hand in disgust. "Really, the man smelt of more liquor than the human body should logically be able to handle! I have my collections, though. One of them was yet another victim of this maniac. Her womb was taken, like the last one Ronnie and I collected."

Grell's eyes dilated as he thought on it. "There was so much blood…"

William frowned at him, and he stood up. "What is wrong with your eyes?"

Grell blinked and looked at him. "Pardon me?"

William circled around his desk, staring into the redhead's eyes. "Why are your pupils so enormous, all the sudden? Sutcliff…are you on some form of _medication_?"

Grell shook his head in denial, his pupils rapidly shrinking back to normal size. "Of course not, Will! I'm very well aware of the rules against being under the influence of substances while on the clock. What a ridiculous notion."

William didn't seem convinced, and he reached out with a gloved hand to wipe away a half-dried trickle of blood he'd noticed on the left side of Grell's face. He examined his finger, looking at the substance, before pinning the other reaper with his suspicious gaze again. "You seem to be getting inordinately sloppy with your work."

Grell self-consciously rubbed the spot where his superior had collected the blood. He shrugged and smiled sharply at him. "The mess was already there when I arrived. So a bit of it got on me…what of it?"

"I cannot help but feel that something odd is going on with you," William said, looking Grell up and down. "Odder than usual, that is. Did something occur during your mission that you haven't seen fit to share with me?"

Knowing that this reaper knew him better than any of the others, Grell laid it on thick. "Well, I _did_ make a new friend, and I met the most gorgeous man today, too. Tall, dark and handsome, like yourself. Be of good cheer, Will; he may even distract me from my pursuit of you for a while. Now, may I be excused so that I can turn in my collections, or would you rather stand here glaring at me?"

William stared for a moment longer, before giving a terse nod. "Off with you, then. Be forewarned, however: I shall be keeping an eye on you, Grell Sutcliff. I can tell that you are up to something. I simply don't know exactly _what_, as of yet."

Grell shrugged and smirked over his shoulder at him as he turned to go. "But William, darling; I'm _always_ up to something. Your keen sense of perception is a tad bit off."

He blew him a kiss, before heading through the door and shutting it behind him. Once in the hallway, Grell breathed a sigh of relief. He'd need to be more careful around William, from now on.

* * *

The weekend came along, and with it, the big day that Eric was dreading so much. Alan cast a worried look at his lover as Eric hurried past him from behind to rush to the bathroom.

"Again?" he called out, returning his attention to his tie. "Eric, maybe you ought to take something for that." He knew that Eric still had leftover anxiety pills, prescribed to him when he was struggling with his grief over the loss of his first partner.

The toilet flushed a moment later, followed by the sound of the tap running. Eric came back into the bedroom with a sigh. "No. I've got tae have mah wits about me tonight. Damn, I've ne'er had this problem before."

"You've never been about to confess to one of your best friends that you're actually his father before," Alan pointed out gently. "We're going to be eating dinner. Do you really want to have to get up and dash for the loo every ten minutes? Especially when you're trying to explain the truth to Ronald?"

Alan imitated the Scotsman's voice. "_'Now Ronnie, I dinnae know about this 'till…oh, hold up a minute, lad. Gotta go take care o' something'_." Alan groaned theatrically and pressed a hand against his abdomen, before imitating the way Eric had lurched to the toilet moments ago. He stopped at the doorway and straightened back up, looking at his partner with raised brows.

"See what I mean?"

Eric started to laugh in spite of himself. "At least ya were kind enough no' tae add farting sound effects tae yer little skit."

Alan chuckled softly and approached him, laying his hands on his shoulders and looking up at him. "It's just nerves, Eric, but if you won't take any meds for it, we should at least pick up something for…er…bowel issues at the pharmacy before we go."

Eric sighed. "Right. Dun' want tae embarrass myself if it can be avoided. I guess I'll take yer advice."

Alan patted him on the arm, and then he went into the kitchen to check on the hors d'oeuvres he'd put together to contribute. "We should be going soon," he called out as he closed the container. "Especially if we're going to drop by the chemist. Do you need help with your tie?"

Eric came out of the bedroom with a slight scowl on his face, his sloppy tie answering the question before he could. "What do _yeh_ think, love?"

Alan smiled and walked over to fix it. Eric's tie-knotting skills were hit or miss on a regular day. With his nerves frayed as they were, it was no surprise that he hadn't the patience to get it done properly.

"It's going to be all right," promised Alan as he straightened it, untied it and started from scratch. "Just take a deep breath, love. I know it's frightening, but this is Ronald we're talking about. He doesn't have a resentful bone in his body."

"I dunno 'bout tha'," murmured Eric, "but let's hope yer right."

"Eric, he loves you," stated the smaller reaper. "He looks up to you, and when he gets into trouble, you're usually the first person he goes to for help. Grell and I run a close second, but he already sees you as a father figure, whether he's aware of it or not. Even if he's angry for a while, I sincerely doubt he'll stay that way forever."

Eric nodded, putting his hands on his waist. "I'll hold ya tae tha', sweetheart."

Alan finished up and stepped back, taking in his partner's brown suit, white shirt and black tie. "All finished. Don't you look handsome." He sighed. "It's a pity you don't wear earth tones to the office more often, but I suppose it would distract me. They really suit you."

The Scotsman smiled down at him. "An' blue is definitely yer color, Al. Do ya think we're overdoin' it with tha clothes?"

Alan shrugged and tightened his bola. "We're meeting a work colleague's mother for the first time. It's traditional to dress semi-formally for dinner invitations, unless the host says otherwise. I think we'll be fine."

Eric took another deep breath and nodded. "Wull, let's get this o'er wi' and stop by tha pharmacy, before I've gotta shite again."

* * *

Ronald smiled as he answered the door, and he blinked when he saw his two coworkers. "Hey, what're y' doing all dressed up like that?" He himself was wearing a cream-colored polo shirt, a pair of blue jeans and white sneakers. "Now I feel kinda underdressed."

The partnered reapers glanced at each other, and Eric shrugged. "Ya ne'er specified how formal it was, so we went fer somethin' in tha middle range. It's no' like we're dressed fer a wedding, Ronnie."

"Yeah, but you both look pretty sharp. Makes me feel sort of dumpy." Ronald grinned and gestured at them to come in. "Come on. Mum's in the kitchen finishing up. We can sit in the parlor and watch the tube."

"Any good games on?" asked Eric as he stepped into the foyer behind his partner and shut the door. The aroma of a pot roast and vegetables wafted from the kitchen through the modest little cottage, and the Scotsman sniffed the air appreciatively.

Ronald shrugged. "Not unless ya like cricket. I think there's a replay of last season's rugby world cup on one of the channels though, if we can get reception. Sorry, mum doesn't get too many channels."

"'S a'right," assured Eric. "Al and I dun' watch much television anyhow, unless it's a designated movie night."

"'Movie night'?" repeated Ronald as he led them into the small parlor.

There really wasn't much to his mother's home. Though it had some of the modern amenities of the Shinigami realm, it was designed much like the homes on the mortal side, reflecting the current time period there. A quaint little cottage with two small bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen opening into a petite dining area and the parlor, one could get from one side of the house to the next in fifteen paces or less, depending on the length of their stride.

"Every Wednesday," confirmed Alan with a nod. "Eric and I pick out a movie to rent, pop some corn and watch it at home."

"Sounds fun," said Ronald without much enthusiasm.

Eric chuckled. "Yer allowed tae say 'boring', Ronnie. We know yer more of a clubbing person."

The boy shrugged and gestured for them to have a seat on the plushy old couch. "Yeah, but I'm sure if I had a significant other, a night in the week t' just relax together at home would be nice."

"Ronald, have our guests shown up?" called a woman's voice from the kitchen.

Not noticing the way Eric tensed at the sound of his mother's voice, Ronald called out to her. "Yeah, Mum! Come out and say hi."

"…I'll be out in a bit," she called back. "Don't just stand there, boy…get 'em something t' drink!"

"Oh, right." Ronald shrugged apologetically to the older men. "What would y' like? I brought a six pack of beer and there's some rum in the cabinet. Otherwise we've got lemonade, tea and water. Sorry, Mum doesn't keep pop in the fridge. Says it's bad for the teeth."

"I'll have some rum," Eric said—to the surprise of no-one.

"Lemonade would be fine for me," declared Alan.

"Comin' right up." Ronald grabbed up the remote for the little television in the corner of the room and he clicked it on, before handing the device over to Eric. "Feel free t' channel surf and watch whatever grabs your attention. I couldn't find a bloody thing to watch, m'self."

He left then, heading into the kitchen to fetch their beverages.

* * *

"Cute how he speaks wi' a stronger accent 'round his ma," Eric observed with a slightly nervous chuckle, once Ronald was out of earshot.

"Rather like you when you were living in Scotland," reminded Alan with a smile. "I could hear the difference, the first time we spoke over the phone after you got deported."

"Hmm, think mah accent's dulled since then?" Eric scratched his goatee thoughtfully.

Alan shrugged. "Just a bit; but I think that's normal. The longer you live somewhere, the more you pick up on speech patterns in the area—and you _have_ gone back into the habit of speaking like a Brit around most of our associates."

"Hmph…better 'n havin' everyone asking me tae repeat myself. I think they're jus' too lazy tae mentally translate mah natural accent."

"Maybe," conceded Alan, "but to be fair, when I first met you I had a bit of trouble understanding you. It didn't take me long to adjust to it, but that could be due to my infatuation and clinging to every word you said. There's that, and I found your accent sexy."

Eric chuckled and put an arm around him for a brief squeeze, clicking through the channels with the remote. Most of them were just static, and the four which actually tuned in were hosting a cricket match, a baking show, a soap opera and a replay of the last big Rugby match—though as Ron said; the reception on that channel was poor. Giving up, the Scotsman turned the television off and set the remote back on the coffee table.

"How is your stomach?" whispered Alan as he gave Eric's knee a squeeze.

"Better, after takin' tha' pitstop and popping tha pills we picked up."

"Good." Alan patted his knee, and then he withdrew his hand when Ronald came back in with a beer bottle tucked under one arm and a glass in each hand.

"Okay, here ya go." The blond offered the beverages to the officers, before taking a seat in the reclining armchair catty-corner to them.

He popped the top on his beer and put the cap in his pants pocket. "Ah, that's better," he sighed after having a swallow. He grinned at the couple. "Ya didn't have to un-couple for me. It's not like I don't know you're an item. Most of us at the office do, y' know…it's just never talked about."

"Al's jus' shy 'bout public displays of affection," excused Eric. "He gives me plenty of attention at home, though."

"Well, you're not in 'public'," reasoned the blond, "and if you're worried about what mum'll think, don't. She's cool with just about any combo, long as everyone's consenting."

Eric coughed. "Y' dun' say."

"It's true! Like I said before: Mum's really laid back. She won't freak if ya hold hands or anything."

"It's all right, Ronald," assured Alan with a smile. "You don't need to play 'matchmaker' with us. Eric and I are content with small gestures of affection, without needing to be attached at the hip. At any rate, I need to use the loo."

"First door down th' hall on tha righ'," Eric advised before Ronald could tell him where it was.

"How'd ya know that?" queried the blond with surprise.

"Er…I was jus' guessing." Eric shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Well, it was a bloody good guess! He's right, Alan senpai. First door on the right."

"Thank you. Please excuse me." Alan set his drink aside and got up to use said facilities.

Ronald watched the brunet go, and he looked at Eric and leaned forward in his seat to speak in a low voice. "So Eric senpai, have ya ever thought of popping the question t' him?"

Eric damned near choked on his rum as he was sipping it. He coughed into his hand and waited until he could take a breath again, before answering. "I cannae say tha' crossed mah mind, lad."

"Well, why not?" Ronald looked like a curious, innocent puppy to him as he watched him inquisitively. "If ya love 'im and you've been together so long, doesn't it kinda make sense?"

"Wull, yeah…technically. But marriage is more a thing fer straight couples tha' want tae live under tha same name an' raise kids together—least for reapers."

There were no gender restrictions on taking vows in Shinigami society, per say—but marriage generally was a contract that "breeding" couples entered together. There were no additional benefits to tempt a same gender couple to tie the knot, and should they split up, there was the issue of legal fees to divorce. Most of them only married if they were planning to have children or were exceptionally devoted to each other. Considering that reapers as a whole did not look down on unmarried couples living together, there really was no social incentive to do it. Some couples even raised families without ever taking legally binding vows.

Ronald shrugged. "Ah, well. I think you'd make a really cute bride and groom…or groom and groom…whatever. Mum never married. I guess I kind o' want you and Alan to tie the knot just so I can be Best Man and see you crazy kids hitched."

"'Crazy kids', eh?" Eric chuckled, but it pained his heart to hear Ronald talk about such a thing. He wished he could have given him a normal childhood, with both a mother and a father who loved him.

"Man, I'm sorry," Ronald lamented upon noticing the flicker of regret that passed over Eric's face. "I didn't mean t' make ya uncomfortable. I just figured if any couple I know ought to take the vows, it's you two."

Eric took another swallow of rum. He had to admit, the idea had some appeal to him. He loved Alan more than he'd ever loved anyone, and if he was going to make a legally binding commitment with anyone in creation, it would have to be him. "Never know what could happen in tha future."

"Well if ya ever _do_ decide to ask him, I'd better be first t' know about it!"

"Ask me what?" Alan came back from the restroom in time to catch the tail end of it.

"Nothin'," said Eric hastily. "We were jus' talking about…Grell."

Alan's brows furrowed. "What about him?" He sat back down beside Eric and picked up his lemonade again for a sip.

"If he's ever been with a girl," Ronald improvised. "I mean, _I_ don't think so, since he's so girly himself, but ya can't always tell which way someone swings based on something like that, right?"

It was Alan's turn to nearly choke. "That's honestly nobody's business but Grell's. Shame on you both for gossiping about such a personal matter behind a colleague's back."

Eric raised his brows. "Have ye no' heard some o' tha gossip Sutcliff himself spreads 'round tha office about everyone else—including us?"

Alan shrugged. "That's no excuse for us to stoop to that level."

Beatrice came in at that moment, putting a halt to the conversation. "Dinner's ready! I should probably introduce myself. I'm Ronnie's mum, if it wasn't obvious."

Eric looked up at her, and a flood of memories of their night together came back to haunt him. She was an attractive woman with a youthful countenance. She was dressed in a black peasant blouse and a matching broom skirt. A pair of black-framed glasses similar to Ronald's—but smaller—sat on her face. Her hair was longer than he remembered, but it still darkened to black at the bottom like her son's. Blond on the top layers and black on the bottom, it was a unique blend that he'd initially thought was contributed to dye. He should have considered genetics though. His own hair grew out black in one patch on the right side, only. People assumed he dyed that in as well, but that wasn't the case. Ronald clearly took after his mother in coloring, but he had Eric's smile and charm.

Her eyes met his, silently warning him not to say anything yet. Eric stood up and forced a smile, taking her hand to grip it in greeting. "Eric Slingby, senior officer of Dispatch. Pleasure tae meet ya, Miss Knox."

Alan gave a little bow and offered his own hand. "Alan Humphries, Ma'am. I'm Eric's partner."

"That's what the little turd here told me," she said with a wry, sidelong glance at her son. "Well, if I'd known Dispatch was full of such handsome gents, I might've tried joining, myself. Come along to the dining room so we can eat and jaw about ourselves. Ronnie, don't just stand there; help me set the table so we can eat."

She swatted Ronald on the bum to get him moving, and he yelped and flushed. "Mum! Not in front o' my mates! I'm too old for that, anyhow!"

"Never to old for a mother's discipline, son," she warned him. "Now get y' goin'. We need silverware on that table."

"Yes'm," he said contritely, hurrying past everyone to go and retrieve the items.

Eric—despite his misgivings—had to stifle the urge to chuckle. It was no wonder he was such a hit with the ladies. Charm aside, Beatrice had raised him to treat them with respect. He inwardly wondered how many Ronald had actually slept with so far, or if he'd bedded any of them at all. If it was all a cover for his infatuation with Spears as Alan believed, chances were he'd never lain with a single girl he'd dated.

* * *

"So Ronald tells me you've transferred permanently from Scotland, Mr. Slingby," Beatrice said conversationally as they began to eat. "When did this happen?"

Eric tensed a little, realizing she was digging to find out just when her son and his biological father crossed paths. "'Bout two years ago," he revealed. "Ronald was jus' starting his apprenticeship wi' Officer Sutcliff, at tha time."

"Interesting." She sipped her lemonade, before cutting into her slice of roast. "And the two of you have taken him under your wing, since then."

Eric nodded. "O' course. It was tha least I could do." He was starting to feel angry.

_~I'd have had a bigger part in his life, if ye'd jus' bothered tae tell me.~_

She picked up on his frustrated gaze, and she sighed, putting her silverware down. "I can't do this."

Ronald was obviously confused as he looked between his senior agents and his mother. He reached out to touch her shoulder. "Mum? You okay?"

Alan dabbed his lips with his napkin and looked down uncomfortably. "Please excuse me for a moment. I…need the loo again."

Eric watched his partner go helplessly, knowing he didn't need the loo at all, but understanding his need to extract himself from the conversation. With a sigh, he looked at Beatrice. "I think it's time we end this farce, don't you?"

She looked at Ronald with her heart in her eyes. "Yeah. Ronnie, y' know I love you more than anything in creation, don't ya?"

Ronald's brows furrowed as he frowned. "Mum, you're starting t' worry me. What's this all about?" He looked at the Scotsman. "Eric senpai?"

Eric tried to speak, but he couldn't find the words. Gods, how did one tell his closest friend that he was actually his father? He shook his head and looked to Beatrice pleadingly. "I've go' nothin'. I'm sorry."

She sighed and waved it away. "This is more on me than you, anyhow. I can't expect you t' clear up the mess I made."

"Okay, what the _hell's_ goin' on?" Ronald demanded, standing up to glare between the two of them. "You've both been acting weird since we sat down t' eat, and I wanna know what's up."

Beatrice reached out and grabbed Ronald by the seat of his pants, yanking him down unceremoniously. "Sit down, boy. I've fucked up right proper, but I won't have you flailing about like some halfwit."

Ronald's eyes bugged out a bit at his mother's use of swear words, but he fell in line and sat down as instructed. "Yes'm. Just…just tell me what's going on. You're both freakin' me out."

She heaved a sigh and pushed her hair back from her forehead with both hands, as if fighting a headache. "Alright, here's th' thing; You know how I've told you that your father abandoned us, love?"

Ronald's expression darkened, and he nodded. "Arsehole."

Eric flinched, and Beatrice shot him an apologetic look, before going on. "Well, it wasn't exactly true. The truth is that I never told the bloke I was carryin' you, Ronnie. He never knew. I didn't think he'd help, and I never gave him the chance t' prove me wrong. That's my fault, not his."

Ronald went still, regarding his mother with wary interest. "So then who _is_ he?"

His eyes went to Eric, sweeping over him slowly, and an expression of reluctant, dawning comprehension crossed his face. He started to shake his head slowly. "Oh, no…don't tell me…"

Eric nodded—and he was so stiff and tense that he could have sworn he could hear the tendons in his neck creak with the motion. "It's me, Ronnie. I'm…I'm yer da. I figured it out tha night o' yer graduation dance, when ya dropped yer wallet an' I saw a picture of yer ma in it. I ne'er said anything, 'cause I dinnae want tae ruin yer night, an' I wanted tae be sure. I had 'em take a paternity test behind yer back tae be sure."

"It isn't his fault," Beatrice cut in. "I never told him. I never expected t' _see_ him again, and I sure as hell didn't expect you t' end up workin' with him."

Ronald stood up again, eyes blazing. "So _you've_ been lying t' me my whole life," he accused his mother—and then he turned to Eric. "And _you_ knew almost from the start, but you _kept_ it from me."

Eric swallowed. "Like I said; I dinnae know how tae tell ya, Ronnie. I was in shock."

"For _two bloody years_?" Ronald hollered it, and he ran his fingers through his two-toned hair. "It never crossed your mind to say: 'Oh, by the way…I'm your dad'? You just slid in and started befriending me—"

"Tha's no' how it happened," protested Eric, but his voice lacked conviction.

"_Bullshit_!" Ronald knocked his drink over, and he dragged in harsh breaths. He paced around in a small circle. "Fuck! My best mate's my bloody father! I should have known! I knew something was funky 'bout the way ya looked at Mum's picture and grilled me about it, but…but…"

Beatrice started to get up to embrace him, but he held a hand out and shook his head. "No, stay away from me. Tell me how this happened. When did you two hook up?"

"He…I…it happened when he was visiting England on a temporary visa," explained Beatrice shakily. "He got hurt, and I took 'im in t' see to his injuries, son. One thing led to another and…well…you were the result."

She straightened up and sniffled. "I'm not sorry. I've got a precious son for it, and the only regret I have is my lies…"

Ronald scowled. "Your lies…ah, damn y' both!"

"Now wait a minute," Eric called as the boy started to leave the dining area. "She was jus' doin' wha' she thought was right by ya both—"

"I don't wanna _hear_ it!" Ronald whirled around to glare at both of them. "M-my whole life I've been hating a guy that doesn't even _exist_, while my real father was right under my bleedin' nose! Fuck off! I…I need fresh air…"

"Oi, dun' talk tae yer ma tha' way!" Eric sputtered the admonishment without even thinking, and then he shook his head. What the hell was the use? He had no right.

Ronald charged through the house and out the front door, while his parents stood there in the dining area, awash with guilt and self-blame.

"Well," sighed Beatrice. "That went over like a rutting bull in a china shop."

Eric huffed softly. "Aye. 'M sorry I wasnae more help."

She shook her head. "This is all _my_ fault, Eric. Should'a told him long ago."

Alan came out of the bathroom then, having heard everything. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he entered the dining area. "I really don't know what to say," he apologized. "Do you think it would…help…if I tried to speak with him?"

Eric shrugged. "Yeh can try, Alan. Dunno if he'll listen, but he sure as spit isn't goin' tae hear anythin' we try tae say ta him, right now."

Alan nodded in understanding. "I'm really sorry, Miss Knox."

She managed a smile for him and shook her gold-black head. "Don't be. You're a sweetheart. Just see if there's anything y' can do for our boy. Out of all of us, you're probably the only one he doesn't see as an enemy, now."

Alan sighed. "We'll see."

* * *

Ronald sat on the bench on the front porch, with his hands clasped together almost in a prayer fist, rocking back and forth. He couldn't believe it—and yet, it made sense. His best mate and his mother had a one-night-stand and he was the result of it.

"Ronald?"

The young reaper looked up at the soft, inquisitive voice. A part of him was glad to see Alan standing there. The man had a gentle wisdom about him, and he was close to Ron's age.

"I dunno," sighed the blond. "I just…it's too much! I can't look at either of 'em, right now."

Alan sat down beside him. "I understand. I'm so sorry. I can only imagine what this must feel like."

Ronald sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I grew up hating my dad, thinking he just packed up and left mum and me. All my life, I've wanted t' confront him…maybe sock him in the jaw and say: 'That's for fucking over Mum'. Now I just…I don't have that hate. Can't hate my best mate…'specially if he never even bloody knew I existed."

Alan gently patted him on the shoulder. "Don't be too harsh on your mother, Ronald. She never really got to know Eric, as you and I have. If she knew what sort of man he was, I'm sure it would have been different. She was scared and alone, and she was trying to protect you."

"Make excuses for 'em all you want," Ronald countered stubbornly, "but I deserved t' know the _truth_. You knew it too, and you never said a thing."

Alan nodded. "I did. Ronald, it really wasn't my _place_ to say anything…but I've done my best to encourage Eric. I'm very sorry for my part in this deception."

Ronald looked at him, sniffling again. He shook his head. "It's cool. You got dragged into this 'cause you're his partner and his lover. I get that. I just…don't know. This fucks up my whole life perspective, ya know?"

"I imagine it does." Alan's tone was sympathetic and kind. "You need time to think on this."

Ronald nodded and wiped away angry tears. "Yeah. Time. Er…Alan sempai? I'm mad and all, but…can I like…confide in ya 'till I figure out how to handle this?"

Alan smiled and gave him a brief, one-armed hug. "You _know_ you can, Ronnie. I promise, I'll keep it between the two of us."

Ronald hugged him back. "This sucks on so many levels…sorry ya got dragged into it."

"It's part of being with someone," reasoned the small brunet with a chuckle. "When you choose a partner, you're also choosing all of their issues and mistakes. I've got plenty of my own."

Ronald snorted and released him. "Find that hard t' believe. You're almost as clingy to the rules as Spears."

"You might be surprised," teased Alan.

Eric walked out the door then, and Ronald immediately stiffened. The Scotsman sighed and looked to his partner. "Guess we'd best get goin'. Ronnie, I—"

"Don't," interrupted the younger reaper. "Not right now. I don't want t' hear anymore excuses. I just…want to be alone."

Eric compressed his lips and nodded. He held a hand out for his partner, and Alan got up and took it. As Eric formed the portal that would take them back home, Alan looked over his shoulder at Ronald to offer him one last piece of advice.

"Not many of us were born into this life, Ron. Most of us don't _have_ parents on this side. Just think on that, will you?"

Ronald nodded, if only because he respected Alan's opinion. "See ya at work tomorrow, I guess."

With a regretful glance behind him at the young blond, Eric finished summoning the portal, and the couple stepped through to go home.

* * *

-To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

"I feel bloody terrible."

Alan paused in the act of undressing for bed, and his features softened with sympathy. Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed with his shoulders slumped, unmoving. With a little sigh, the younger reaper climbed onto the bed and over to his partner. Standing on his knees, he embraced the blond from behind and kissed his shoulder.

"You did what you _had_ to do, Eric. Reapers live for a very long time, and chances are it was inevitable for Ronald to find out eventually. Coming clean with him at least makes you both honest. You weren't the one who's been actively lying to him his whole life, either."

Eric shrugged. "But I've known fer o'er a year. Sure, it'd been stupid tae tell him tha moment I figured it out—especially before I go' tha paternity test results…but I still should have said somethin' after tha'. Should've called her tha moment I knew an' arranged this sooner. Now I might lose mah son _an'_ a good friend."

Alan shook his head. "I don't think that will happen. Ronald needs some time to sort himself out after a shock like that, but I don't think he'll hold it against you for long."

Eric turned his head to look at him. "Hope yer right 'bout tha'. Feels like I jus' shattered tha kid's world."

"You tore down an illusion and showed him the truth," insisted Alan. "He might not be grateful for that right now, but I'm betting he will be eventually. He knows who his father is now, and even if he's feeling angry with you, he knows he likes you. From what I understand, not all sons get along with their fathers."

Eric heaved a sigh and nodded. "Jus' need tae figure out how I should treat him, from now on. It's too late tae start actin' like a da now. That ship already sailed…but he's no' gonna see me th' same way anymore. It's gonna be awkward."

"For a little while," agreed Alan with a nod. "You both need time to adjust and decide where to go from here. Just try not to over-think it right now, Eric. Let things sort themselves out between the two of you without trying to force anything, okay?"

Eric turned and embraced him. "I wish I had yer patience…or some kind o' magic wand I could wave tae make it all better right away."

Alan kissed him and took off both their glasses to set them on the bedside table. "At least you've gotten the hardest part over with. That's one less burden on your shoulders. Now get undressed and lie down with me."

He kissed his ear, then his neck. "Let me take your mind off of it for a while, so you can sleep."

For a moment, he wasn't sure Eric would be in the mood—but then the Scotsman's mouth covered his in a kiss that was on the desperate side, and he combed his fingers through the loose parts of Eric's wavy mane and kissed him back. What he needed right now was solace, and what better place to find that than in the arms of a lover?

Alan let the bigger man guide him onto his back, and he began to help Eric undress as his heavier frame pinned him to the bed. He didn't protest the sudden aggression of his kisses, submitting to Eric—not only because it gave him a thrill, but because the blond so badly needed to feel like he was in control. He did gasp one soft complaint when one of the buttons of his shirt popped off from Eric's rough treatment of his clothes, but Alan was rather used to losing buttons when things heated up between them, by now.

The brunet reached out blindly for the lamp and he dimmed it. The sound of heavy breathing, low moans and rustling sheets soon filled the shadowed bedroom.

* * *

"Yeah, I'm late, I know," snapped Ronald when he went to clock in the next day and found William already standing there, sipping a mug of steaming coffee. "Spare me th' dirty looks and just gimme overtime or whatever, boss. I don't even care."

William raised a dark brow at him, his elegantly attractive features expressing mild surprise. Ronald didn't wait around for the admonishment that was sure to come; he punched in his time card and went straight to the elevators. All he wanted to do was get through the day without seeing or speaking to Slingby. He nearly ran into one of the janitors on the way, and he barked at the poor man to watch where the hell he was going. He got into the elevator car and jabbed the button for his department's office floor. As the doors began to slide shut, he leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes.

He kept thinking of the way his mum tearfully begged him not to leave the night before, when he opened a portal that would take him downtown to his flat building. His eyes stung and he started to wipe at them. Even after all this, he couldn't bear his mother's tears. But _he_ wasn't the one that should feel guilty. She'd lied to him his whole life…kept the truth about his dad from him.

Just as the elevator doors were about to seal, the tip of a familiar scythe shot through and stopped them. Ronald blinked as the doors opened again to admit his boss, and he flushed and tried to compose himself, averting his gaze.

William stepped into the elevator car with him, his piercing gaze flicking over him as he selected the executive office floor above Ronald's stop. He took another sip of his coffee as the doors slid shut, and the elevator began its ascent.

"Care to explain to me just what in Hades that disrespectful outburst was all about, Knox?"

The blond gulped, feeling the weight of his actions and realizing that he might have just earned himself more than overtime as punishment. He couldn't take it back, though. "Guess you're gonna give me a pay-cut, now."

"That would depend on the manner of your explanation," answered the older man. "If you conduct yourself with a measure of courtesy, I may decide to be lenient. Now, please answer my question."

Ronald sighed and shrugged, looking down at his shoes as he shuffled his feet absently. "I just found something out yesterday that…" He shook his head. "Don't wanna talk about it, sir."

William regarded him levelly. "Whether you care to elaborate or not, if it stands the risk of interfering with your job performance, you had better let me know now. I can't have you out in the field if something is troubling you so much that you cannot pay attention to what you're doing."

Ronald shrugged. "I'll be fine. I'm just cranky in th' morning sometimes and I hardly slept at all last night."

"So you're telling me that you are not only troubled by some revelation, but you are also sleep deprived." William shook his head. "I think I'd better take you off the collecting list, for today."

Ronald finally looked at him, a little desperately. "Please sir…let me go out reaping, t'day. I promise I won't mess up! I can't just sit at the office all day long; I'll think too much and I really need t' take my mind off this."

William reached out with his scythe and deftly poked the lift's emergency stop button. Ronald staggered a little as the car came to a halt, and he grabbed onto the side-rails, staring at his boss with surprise.

"What'd y' do that for?"

William's eyes pinned him to the spot. He didn't answer verbally, but his brows lifted slightly in an expectant manner. Ron cringed inwardly and scrubbed a hand through his feathered blond locks. "You're not gonna let this go, are ya?"

William shook his head slowly and took another sip of his coffee. "I'm waiting, Mr. Knox," he informed as he lowered the mug again.

Ronald sighed and threw his hands out to the sides. "Why? Why d'ya care _what_ my problem is? Does it really matter? Okay, I'm distracted. I get why that's a concern. If y' really don't want me goin' out on the field today, I won't argue anymore."

William kept staring at him.

"Uh…sir," added Ronald as an afterthought. Wow, he was really digging himself deep. Still, the supervisor's gaze did not relent, and Ronald sighed and leaned back against the wall again, crossing his arms over his chest. "Right, then. Found out who my real dad is at dinner last night. Mum's been keepin' it from me for all this time, but she finally came clean with me out o' the blue, right in the middle of dinner. Turns out my father's living right here in reaper London. Right under my nose, and I had no fucking idea! She's been letting me believe he abandoned us when I was a baby, but she never even told him she was pregnant with me! It was a one-night stand and I guess she decided he wouldn't have been there for us even if she told him."

Ronald kicked at the side of the lift and swore again. "What's worse; he's known about me for about two years now, and he never said a bloody _thing_! Er…sorry for th' swearing, sir."

The chill in William's demanding gaze faded, and his stony expression softened, somewhat. "I see. And who might this estranged father be?"

At that moment, Ronald wanted more than anything to tell him…wanted to confide in this stoic, collected man even though he doubted William would favor him with much sympathy or comfort. He very nearly blurted out the name, but he clamped his mouth shut at the last minute and shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I…I can't think of him as my dad. He was never there, and the person I'd built up in my head over all this time doesn't even exist. I can't even _blame_ th' bloke, really. If I found out eighteen or twenty years from now I had a son I was never told about, I wouldn't know what t' do, either. It's just not fair, though. I wish I was still ignorant!"

The phone in the lift's emergency panel began to ring, and William looked at Ronald as if he wanted to say something, before deciding to answer it. "Everything is fine," he assured the maintenance person on the other end. "I stopped the lift because I could not find my keys, and I did not wish to have to take it all the way back down to the lobby floor. Yes, I've found them. I shall release the stop button and continue on, thanks."

He hung up the phone and he looked at Ronald again. "Having no reaper parents of my own, I cannot fathom how you must be feeling. What I will say is that you need to understand your own limitations, Ronald Knox. It would be a shame to see such potential go to waste in a moment of recklessness. You know how dangerous our work can be."

Ronald nodded, sulking a little. "I know, boss. Sorry for acting like a wanker."

"At least you had a decent excuse for it," William granted. "I am afraid, however, that my earlier assessment still stands. I can't send you on reaping assignments, in your current frame of mind. I'm even considering giving you the day off. It would be best for you to get some rest and come in tomorrow refreshed, and with a clearer head."

"Please don't, sir," requested the blond. "I don't want t' go home. All I'll end up doing is drinking m'self stupid, and then I'll end up coming in with a hangover tomorrow."

"Have you so little self-control, Mr. Knox?" William looked him over. "If you believe you would drink the day away, what's to say you won't go straight to a pub after work and do the same thing this evening?"

"I…I don't know," admitted Ronald, flushing. "Maybe I could hang out at Miss Sutcliff's place after work…if Grell even bothers showin' up today."

"Ronald, if you fear this could lead to a drinking problem, then perhaps you should see counseling. You certainly can't rely on Sutcliff to watch over you. That idiot cannot even be relied on to do his job as your partner, these days. The time for mentorship is over, but he still has a responsibility to you as your senior to assist with your reapings—and he's been slacking on that, of late. I have even implemented a pay cut, but I have yet to see an improvement in his performance. Do _not_ put your well-being in his hands."

Ronald was briefly stunned by the way William addressed him by his first name. Not "Knox", not "Mr. Knox", and not his full name, as he usually did. He couldn't recall the man ever addressing him so informally before, and it made him wonder if maybe…just maybe…he might care a little.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" pressed William.

Ronald nodded. "Yessir. I understand. I don't need counseling, though. I need a friend."

"Then perhaps you ought to look to Slingby and Humphries," suggested the brunet as he depressed the stop button again to get the lift going. He adjusted his glasses and stepped back. "You do have a rapport with them, after all."

Ronald compressed his lips, his anger bubbling to the surface again. Not wanting to give anything away, he thought up an excuse to nix that idea. "I'm pretty sure they've already got plans for tonight and I don't want t' get in the way. I'll manage, sir. Just don't send me home, okay? Even paperwork is better than sitting there alone, thinkin' about all this."

"Very well, then. We shall see how the day goes. I warn you though, Mr. Knox; if I notice you slipping, I'll have little choice but to intervene."

Ronald heaved a sigh. There was that formality again. He _did_ feel a little better after getting some of it off his chest, though. Spears might not be the most sympathetic ear around, but at least he gave a toss enough to ask about it and express some concern—even if it was only on a professional level.

"Thanks, boss."

* * *

William himself couldn't say exactly what prompted him to take such an interest in Ronald Knox's personal problems. It wasn't like him at all to get involved in his employee's affairs, unless they were having a notable effect on their work performance. He'd thought that was all there was to it; but he usually wasn't one to dig. He pondered this as he unlocked his office and entered it to begin the day's work. Monitoring Sutcliff's odd behavior was one thing; he knew from experience that the crimson reaper was a volatile creature, with little to no compunctions or conscience. Grell needed to be kept in check at all times, for the good of the department. Ronald—however prone he might be to late arrivals and slacking with his paperwork—was not a borderline sociopath.

Then there was that odd feeling he got, when he saw how close Knox had come to tears. He was young and given to the emotions of youth, granted, but it had an effect on William that troubled him. He'd come close to ordering him to stop being so upset; which was of course ridiculous. One couldn't order an employee not to feel a certain way, simply because it made one uncomfortable to witness the emotion.

"I wonder," he mused, sitting down at his desk and setting his mug on the coaster. He'd even felt a stirring of anger on Ronald's behalf, once the boy explained what had him so upset. It was a baseless sort of anger, without true direction. It certainly wasn't his place to feel angry with Knox's mother, but the situation itself made him…frustrated. The young man was clearly hurting inside, and William couldn't do anything about it.

Sentiment. That was the problem. He'd learn to banish that particular emotion long ago, after an encounter with it during a reaping assignment nearly cost him his life. He wasn't expecting for it to creep up on him again with little to no warning. He supposed he could excuse it on Ronald's endearing nature. People tended to enjoy Knox's company, and William admitted to himself that he was no exception.

With a sigh of disapproval at what he considered a weakness, the Dispatch supervisor forced his attention away from Ronald Knox, and he began to spread out the assignments meant for him amongst the other agents. Pity though it was to add more to their work load, he found it a more prudent measure than to allow Ronald to go reaping today—even if William himself were to partner up with him for safety.

* * *

On his way to the office he shared with Grell, Ronald spotted Eric in the hallway, talking to another Dispatch agent. Their eyes met across the distance and the Scotsman impulsively started to smile and wave, only to sober quickly when Ronald pointedly looked away and ignored him. He wasn't ready to speak to him yet, and it irked him to see him trying to act like nothing had changed. Maybe it was just reflexive on Eric's part, but Ronald couldn't help but find it insulting.

~You're not really my friend. Never were. Only reason y' even got close t' me was 'cause you knew I was your kid.~

At least, that was how Ronald saw it. He glanced at Eric once as he passed by, and he tried not to let the hurt look in the older man's eyes get to him. He didn't have the right to have hurt feelings. Even though he'd never been told he had a kid, he found out on his own and he chose not to inform Ronald right away. As he unlocked the office and went inside, he shut and locked the door behind him and began to mutter to himself.

"Mum lied t' me. Eric lied t' me. Grell's out doing who knows what and keepin' shit from me, and Spears is thinking of cutting my hours…maybe even sending me t' counseling whether I wanna go or not."

He huffed a sigh and plopped down at Grell's desk, kicking back in the cushy office chair as he tried to map out his day. Of course, he couldn't really get started 'till he actually _got_ some paperwork to organize. He kept thinking about his problems, and he snorted.

"Whole bloody world's full o' liars and plotters. Can't I trust _any_ of my elders?"

Well, there _was_ Alan. He couldn't rightly put any blame on him in this situation. Humphries just got dragged into it, and Ronald did understand that it wasn't his place to come to him and tell him. Trouble was, he couldn't talk to Alan without it getting back to Eric. The only person he could really talk to was the boss, and he knew Spears didn't want to get involved in other people's problems unless he absolutely had to. Besides, Will had enough on his plate, without Ronald trying to cling to him like some sad little waif begging for crumbs of affection.

"This sucks," complained Ronald, laying his head in his arms on top of the desk.

Before he knew it, he fell asleep.

* * *

William walked into Grell's office with a stack of paperwork for Ronald—and he promptly sighed in annoyance when he found the boy asleep at the desk. He crossed the floor and he reached out with the intention of shaking him awake; but then Ronald mumbled something in a quivering voice in his sleep that gave the supervisor pause.

"Why didn't y' tell me, Eric?"

A tear trickled from the corner of his eye to roll down the side of his nose, landing on his topmost folded arm.

"Slingby?" mouthed William, brows drawing down. He stared down at the young man, and he thought of his charming, dimpled smiles, his playful demeanor and the ease at which he attracted the opposite sex. Then there was the hair. While it stood to reason that Ronald could have inherited the two-toned coloring from his mother, Eric Slingby also had a blend of blond and black in his hair. The pattern wasn't the same, but the shade was just about identical.

"Well, it's no wonder you wished to get out in the field so desperately," murmured William. Suddenly Ronald's excuse for not turning to Eric and Alan in his time of need rang hollow, as the truth dawned on William. Sitting around the office where he stood to run into Eric every time he stepped out the door couldn't possibly be helping his emotional situation…but it made the brunet wonder why he even insisted on coming into work. Would it not have been better to stay home and distance himself from the office, and therefore Slingby?

He waited for the surprise to sink in, and it never did. It made so much sense that the Scottish reaper once known for playing the field managed to hook up with Miss Knox at some point in the past and left her in a family way. As he recalled, Eric had come over from Scotland a few times during his career to assist London Dispatch in times of severe staff shortage. Will recalled reading about at least two such times in Slingby's personal records, before he finally transferred and took on Alan as his apprentice.

William looked down at the stack of paperwork tucked under his arm, then back at Ronald. Some impulse made him change his action from shaking the boy awake to simply laying his hand on his shoulder. He took it a step further and brushed the back of his knuckles over the sleeping agent's smooth cheek.

That oddly protective feeling arose within him again, followed by the urge to press his lips against Ronald's parted ones. William shook himself out of it, brutally criticizing his own silly, romantic notions inwardly.

With a little sigh, he let Ronald be and he quietly walked out of the office, taking the paperwork he'd intended for Knox with him.

* * *

"Slingby, I have additional paperwork for you that I wish to see completed and on my desk by five o'clock, sharp."

The Scotsman's brows shot up as William briskly dropped the thick pile onto his desk with a thump. The man hadn't even announced himself before letting himself into his and Alan's office, and even though he was their superior, he usually knocked politely before coming in.

"Er…a'right. Tha's a lot o' files though, boss. I'll do mah best, but I've already go' a small mountain of 'em tae process, so I might no'—"

"I want results, not excuses," interrupted William coolly, drawing a curious look from Alan.

"I can help," offered the brunet softly. "Don't worry sir, we'll have it done for you."

William shook his head. "We are backed up on collections to gather today, Mr. Humphries. I need you out in the field. Your partner can handle the paperwork."

Alan blinked, looking to his partner with the same confusion Eric was feeling. "Sir, with all due respect, wouldn't it be better to leave the reaping to Eric and allow _me_ to handle the paperwork? Our skill sets being what they are, I think both would be accomplished more quickly if the roles were reversed."

Eric nodded. Alan was a skilled reaper without a doubt, but of the two of them, he was much better with the paperwork, and Eric in turn was the stronger fighter when it came down to any confrontations with demons and other hindrances.

"These reaping assignments require tact, not brute strength," clarified William, handing over Alan's collection book for the day; and with it, the death list he would need. "I have made my decision and you have your orders, gentlemen. Good day."

They both stared after him as he exited their office without another word.

"He knows I hate paperwork," muttered Eric, "an' he knows I can be on tha sloppy side wi' it, compared tae you."

Alan looked at his companion suspiciously. "What did you do _this_ time, Eric?"

"Nothin'!" protested the blond with a helpless shrug. "I dinnae do a thing tae piss th' boss off…did I?"

He scratched the beard growth on his chin in thought, racking his brain for anything he might have done. He'd been arriving at work on time each day, completed and catalogued his collections in a timely manner, and his reports—as far as he knew—were accurately filled out and handed in at the end of the day.

"Well, something has him hot under the collar," sighed Alan.

"Maybe I'm no' tha one he's annoyed wi'," suggested Eric. When Alan gave him a dry look, he sighed. "Right. If it's between you and me, then I'm prolly tha most likely suspect. I jus' dunno wha' th' hell I could've done tae set him off."

Alan shrugged and looked over the death list given to him. "Maybe it's not either of us. With Grell out of the queue of active collection agents and the new trainees coming in, Mr. Spears is probably just stressed. He may not be thinking clearly and he could simply be too busy to bother with his usual etiquette."

"Wull, if he wants things done quickly, he should've reversed our assignments," grumbled Eric. "Hard tae tell when th' man's actually angry, though. I've never met a reaper tha's harder tae read than Spears."

Alan sighed. "Sitting around theorizing over it won't do us any good." He tucked away his book and got up, summoning his scythe. "I'd better get going. My first reap of the day is scheduled in under an hour. I wonder if Grell has made any headway in this investigation he's on, or if he's just goofing off somewhere."

"No tellin' wi' tha' one." Eric got up as well to give Alan a little kiss. "Watch yerself ou' there, Al. Been a while since either of us went out reapin' alone."

"I'll be careful," promised the smaller man. "Just try not to be too distracted by what happened yesterday, and don't give Spears any excuse to give you overtime. I would like for both of us to clock out on time tonight and go home together."

"I'll do mah best. Er…Alan, if ya happen tae run into Knox…would ye jus' ask how he's doing? He might talk tae you. Kid won't even look at me, now."

Alan's eyes softened in sympathy. "Of course, love. I'll see you later this afternoon."

* * *

While Alan was out gathering his assigned collections, a very peculiar thing happened. He'd just finished gathering the records of a man who died of a heart attack, and on his way to the next mark he heard a woman's voice call out one of his associate's name.

"Grell, honestly! Have you learned _nothing_ from my nephew's butler?"

"So sorry, Madame!" responded a timid, apologetic voice. "I shall clean up the mess right away!"

Alan stopped in his tracks and looked across the street. The name "Grell" certainly was no common mortal given name—at least not in these parts. The brunet watched as a lean man in a butler suit bent over a suitcase that had come undone as he'd tried to unload it from the carriage, spilling its contents all over the street. The man wore round glasses and he wore his long brown hair in a ponytail, tied back with a red ribbon. He hastily began to scoop up the various clothing articles that had spilled out of the case, still apologizing profusely to his mistress as he stuffed them back into the container.

The woman addressing him wore a flattering, elegant dress of all red, with a wide-brimmed dress hat of the same color, a lacy white scarf and white gloves. Her hair was cut in an unusual style that defied current London fashion on this plane; a bob-style with the bangs trimmed in a v shape. Like her dress, her hair was bright red, and it reminded Alan of the coworker whose name he could have sworn she'd just called. She stood there tapping her foot, her garnet colored eyes flashing with annoyance as her butler hastened to rectify his mistake.

Alan studied the man carefully. He wasn't the Grell he knew, so maybe she was addressing him by his surname…or he was one of the few mortals in London to have that as a given name. There was something off about him though, and the reaper couldn't quite decide what it was. Maybe it was his manner of speaking, or the way he moved. It was almost as if he was very uncomfortable in his own skin.

Alan started to shrug it off and move on. He'd seen many a clumsy mortal before. Hearing him addressed by the name of one of his colleagues was a bit jarring, but he reasoned it was just a coincidence. As he started to look away and keep walking, the butler straightened up and looked straight at him. Alan paused.

_~I'm cloaked from mortal vision. He couldn't possibly see me…~_

But the butler's hazel eyes widened for just a moment behind the round, wire frames of his glasses. Seconds later, they passed over Alan, looking at a point behind his shoulder before glancing away. The butler finished re-packing the luggage and he carried it into the launder behind his mistress, never looking back.

"That was strange," whispered Alan to himself. It was unsettling, too. He could have sworn the man had seen him, but mortals generally had to be close to death in order to see through the veil that reapers cloaked themselves in while on the job. It allowed them to move about freely in the human world and gather souls without human interference. Witches, shamans and the like were usually an exception to the rule, however.

Perhaps the lady in red's butler was a dabbler in magic, then? Or he could be a descendant of such people and inherited a touch of witch sight from them. He certainly didn't look like anything special to Alan, but there was definitely something odd about him.

Trying to put the strange not-quite-encounter out of his mind, Alan moved on. He made a mental note to call up Grell and tell him about the strange butler bearing his name, later on.

* * *

"Well, aren't you just the picture of precious. Now get out of my chair, Knoxie-dear."

Ronald came awake with a snort, and he wiped drool from his lips as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Senpai? That you?"

There was a sigh. "Of _course_ it's me, silly boy. I've come to take you out on your reap assignments. Goodness, Ronald—it's past three in the afternoon and here you are, napping away. I think you may suffer a vitamin deficiency."

Ronald righted his glasses and he checked his watch, covering up a yawn with his free hand. "Holy…how'd I sleep so long? The boss was s'posed t' bring me paperwork to take care of, 'cause he doesn't want me going out in the field today."

Grell clucked his tongue. "Whyever would he want to keep you from reaping? _He's _the one always complaining about how short staffed we are, and he threatened to give me another pay cut if I failed to babysit you today!"

Ronald shrugged and stretched. "I've got some things going on, and I didn't get much sleep last night. Shit, I hope he didn't come in here and see me napping…"

But it made no sense. Spears surely would have come by with the paperwork, so why didn't he wake him? Or maybe he _did_ wake him and Ronald just didn't remember it and went back to sleep. The blond looked around with a sense of panic, but he saw no unfinished paperwork on the desk.

"Okay, this is so weird," he muttered.

Grell checked his pocket watch impatiently. "Well, what's it going to be, Ronald? Are we going to go reaping or not?"

"Already told ya," yawned Knox, "Spears divvied out my assignments for the day between other field agents. Damn, I don't even know what I'm doing here, now. I'm kind of scared to stick my head out the door."

"Well, I still _do_ have assignments to collect," reminded Grell. "Come along with me. I'll get it finished twice as fast with your assistance, and then we can both move on to more interesting things."

"B-but Mr. Spears said—"

"Bah, forget him." Grell waved a negligent hand in the air, and Ronald noticed something between the gap of his glove and his sleeve.

"Is that blood on your arm?"

Grell frowned. "Pardon?"

Ron pointed. On your left arm, there. Did ya cut yourself or something, or have you already done some reaping?"

Grell held up his arm and tugged the sleeve down to look. "Oh, so there is. My, that's careless of me. I must have gotten some on me when I paid a visit to the mortuary."

Ronald's brow crinkled. "What were ya doing at the mortuary?"

Grell sighed. "Questioning the loony old bat that lives there, that's what! I _am_ charged with investigating all the latest murders, after all. He's been autopsying the bodies of the victims of the man they've now begun to call 'Jack the Ripper'. I was there undercover, of course, attempting to find out exactly what he knows—if anything. He's a strange fellow, that's for sure. He sways like he's in his cups all the time and giggles like some halfwit. Spooky bastard. Personally, I think he's deranged."

"Well, I guess in his line of work, he's got a right t' be."

Grell tilted his head and smiled down at him. "Do you, Ronnie? Just imagine one of _us_ acting that way. We would surely be institutionalized!"

Ronald shrugged. "Human minds don't work quite like ours. They snap more easily."

Grell chuckled. "Mm, yes. The human mind is a fragile thing, indeed. I can't decide which is more breakable; their minds, or their bodies." He rubbed his gloved hands together and looked at Ronald expectantly. "So, are you going to just sit here until the day ends, or are you going to go out reaping with me?"

The blond bit his lip uncertainly. He supposed there wasn't any harm in just _assisting_ his mentor. "All right, but if the boss comes down on our heads, I expect you t' take the blame."

"Fair enough."

* * *

They ended up reaping yet another victim of the Ripper—or at least, Ronald assumed she was, because the pattern fit. She was a harlot, with brown hair and rather plain features. Her womb had been removed and her throat slashed. They located her cooling body in one of the alleys between buildings in one of the shadier parts of London.

"Looks like she was just recently killed," observed Ronald as Grell began to collect her records. "So that means it happened right in broad daylight. Weren't the others killed at night?"

"Mm-hmm," agreed the crimson reaper. He seemed distracted. "Daylight offered no protection to her. You know, the killer has been sending letters to Scotland Yard."

Grell giggled, his eyes fixated on the images of the woman's last moments of life. He shifted his position a bit, blocking them from Ronald's view. "He's making a complete fool of them. They honestly have no idea who's behind it all. Why, for all they know, it could be more than one person."

Ronald frowned, leaning back against the wall. He felt dampness seeping into his clothes and he pushed away from the wall to feel his back. His hand came away stained with red, and he turned to look at the brick wall.

"Shit, it's like they just filled up a bucket of it and splashed it all over the wall!"

Grell glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes took on a strangely dreamy look as they scanned the wall Ronald had just been leaning against. "I suppose it is. Someone likes to make a mess, don't they?"

He finished gathering the records and he clucked his tongue as Ronald stood helplessly, holding his bloodied hand out with a grimace because he was reluctant to wipe it on his pants and stain his clothing more.

"Oh, Ronnie…here." Grell reached into his breast pocket and procured a handkerchief from it. He extended it in offering to the younger reaper. "One of the benefits of working with a lady is that we always come prepared. Go ahead and wipe your hand off. You'll likely have to send that jacket to the dry cleaners, as soon as possible."

Ronald took the handkerchief and did his best to wipe away the blood on his hand. He glanced at Grell again and he noticed the way he was swaying on his feet, humming to himself as he stared at the bloody corpse. A shiver raced up his spine as he thought on the earlier conversation they'd had concerning humans, reapers and madness.

"Miss Sutcliff…are ya feeling okay?" he asked hesitantly, using the respectful pronoun he knew Grell preferred. The redhead had a really odd look in his eyes. When he got no immediate answer, Ronald approached and gently nudged his mentor. "Grell?"

The redhead gave a little start. "Hmm?"

His eyes were dilated as if drugged. "I'm starting to worry about you," Ronald said truthfully. "Is something going on? Ya didn't sniff some weird chemicals while you were at the mortuary, did you?"

Grell blinked, and he seemed to come out of whatever reverie he was in. "Oh, don't be silly, darling. I'm perfectly fine! Now then, let's move on to the next name on the list, shall we? You should be thankful that you haven't begun to get assigned night shifts, yet. I swear, that man is such a taskmaster! You'll get to go home at five and do whatever you like, but I must clock back in after a few hours and reap more targets."

Ronald shrugged. He knew they rotated night shifts between senior officers, and some were placed on call to take up their scythes and conduct last minute reaps. Grell usually took Mondays and Wednesdays, Eric and Alan took Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Friday and the weekend were rotated between a couple of other officers, depending on who was available. William took shifts when others weren't available to, or when the death toll was so high they needed the extra hand.

"I'm sure I'll be working nights before too long," he sighed with out much enthusiasm. That was one part of gaining rank that he wasn't really looking forward to. It was going to cut down on his party time, but he supposed two or three nights a week wasn't really that bad. "Who do ya work with on your night shifts, Senpai? Or do ya just go out solo?"

"I work alone at night," answered Grell with a shrug as they began to walk out of the alley. "I dislike my choices of graveyard shift partners, so I prefer to go it alone."

"Run into many demons?" Ronald himself had only ever had two run-ins with hellspawn; and he supposed it was because they were less active during the day.

A faint smile curved Grell's lips. "Oh, I've crossed paths with one or two, lately. Nothing has come of it…yet."

The statement confused the blond. "So they ran off before y' could fight 'em?"

"Let's just say that I've been biding my time for the perfect moment, darling. You might be surprised to know that some demons call London their home. When they are under a contract with a human, they're harmless to our mission. They fatten their intended meal's soul up, you see, and they generally abstain from feeding on other victims in the meantime. Well, not _all _of them do, but the one I saw was."

"Why not just kill him and be done with it?" asked Ronald. He jogged a little to catch up with Grell as the redhead crossed the street.

Grell sighed. "Because we aren't permitted to interfere with Faustian contracts, Ronnie. Do you _ever_ pay attention? I thought they taught these things in the academy!"

Ronald shrugged. "Yeah, but they never explained _why_. That's why I'm askin'. I mean, if we know they're gonna make a snack out of souls we ought t' be collecting soon as they've munched down on their contract, why wait?"

"Oh, I don't know." Grell shrugged. "Some foolish treaty between our kind and theirs. However, if a contracted demon ever attacks you or interferes with your mission, you are perfectly allowed to reap it."

Ronald nodded. "So this 'Ripper' thing…do ya have any theories yet?"

Grell smiled. "I have several, darling. I suppose we'll just have to see which one proves correct, hmm?"

Ronald avoided a puddle, loathe to risk any damage to his good shoes. "Well, let me know if ya find anything. If we've gotta deal with 'em, I want t' be at your side."

Grell looked at him sidelong. "I shall keep that in mind, darling."

* * *

-To be continued


End file.
